


Son

by kikabennet



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Father-Son Relationship, Kid Peter Quill, Multi, Yong Peter Quill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:18:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikabennet/pseuds/kikabennet
Summary: Yondu's relationship with Peter from start to finish, starting with the abduction and the translator implant.





	1. Chapter 1

He was cargo.

That's what Yondu told everyone when they picked the young terran up from the dump planet nobody visited. Terrans were not strong, didn't live long, tore up the planet, didn't adapt well to change. If Yondu didn't know any better, he'd think the human species were just an accidental parasite on the planet. 

That's why he was so surprised at how different the terran boy actually was to what he'd originally imagined. At first, he screamed and cowered and got so scared of the others that he pissed himself frequently. He was actually starting to smell. Terran children, Yondu realized, were like children of any civilized species. He had expected him to behave more like a feral animal than a wary, frightened child. Animals, when hungry, would take food regardless of who had them in their mitts. The terran child studied everyone intently from afar, never accepting food or drink.

When Yondu contacted Ego about the boy, he off-handedly asked about the other children. He had delivered eighteen of them there, some in multiples because they had been from species that produced litters. Many of those children had already been implanted with a translator at birth or shortly after. They could speak to Yondu and his crew. He had delivered them to their father with some care. 

"So 'bout to bring you this terran child," Yondu said. "How are them other rugrats?"

He tried to imagine how big some of them had probably gotten, as he had been delivering them over the course of several months. 

"Who?" Ego asked, and then he quickly (smoothly) said, "They're great. They love this planet. They keep me busy, that's for sure."

Yondu didn't really believe in intuition, but after the call, he felt something deep in the pit of his stomach that sent waves of doubt through his entire body. It kept him up at night, took away his appetite, and even when he forgot about it, it would awaken him when he looked at him.

The terran child.

The boy had been stripped and forced into the showers and given clean clothes. He had started to smell so bad the ravagers had started to complain. And that said something if ravagers complained about smell. 

Kraglin, who looked similar to the boy, or similar enough, was the one the terran child followed around like a shadow. Kraglin was not threatening in appearance, and even though the boy didn't understand a word he said, Yondu guessed he was comforted by their similar structure and coloring. He didn't follow him exactly, but he always seemed to be nearby, watching Kraglin carefully in case he moved. If he did, the boy would stand up and wait several seconds or even minutes before moving close by, settling down again, thinking he was clever. 

\-------

"We need to get an implant in 'im," he told Kraglin one night, shrugging his coat back on.

"In who?" Kraglin frowned, slipping on a boot.

"That kid," Yondu said, feeling slightly embarrassed for reasons he didn't understand.

"The terran?" Kraglin's eyebrows raised up high. "What for?"

"Well..." Yondu faltered. He had no reason to help the child in any way, so giving any logical explanation was not easy. "Terrans don't have no communicatin' skills, now do they? Wasshis daddy gon' think when we drop him off and the kid can't talk to nobody?"

What Yondu liked about Kraglin was that he didn't ask a lot of questions. He stared at his captain for several seconds and then shrugged.

"Alright then," he said. "When you wanna do that, Cap'n?"

"Let's just get 'er done now," Yondu said with a sigh. "Best not to get the boys riled up."

They found the terran kid sitting on one of the many grated staircases, his headphones on, head leaning against the wall. He stared into space, blinking slowly. When he saw Yondu and Kraglin approach, he became more alert, pulling the headphones off and standing up. 

"C'mon, Kid," Yondu said, gesturing him. Surely even if the kid couldn't understand what he was saying, that wave of a hand had to be universal, right?

The terran didn't move.

Yondu whistled slightly.

"Lessgo," he tried again, nodding his head too. 

The terran looked at Kraglin, who nodded at him. The boy followed them, two steps behind, never taking his eyes off of them. 

Yondu decided to do the procedure right in his cabin. The implant procedure wasn't difficult to do, but it was painful. It was the reason some parents decided to do it at birth and get it over with and some waited until their children were a little older because the procedure itself involved an implant gun, which pierced the skin just behind the ear and sent the microscopic chip inside, and then the outside plate had to be put on with two piercings. Three painful holes in all. 

"Put 'im on the bed," Yondu told Kraglin, digging around for his implant gun. 

Kraglin picked the boy up, who let out a yelp, but calmed down when he was sat on top of Yondu's unmade bed. He watched the two ravagers intently, following their every move. Yondu found the gun in a drawer full of junk and made sure it was working correctly. Kraglin looked at the boy, trying to hide a grin. It made him feel slightly guilty when this made the child smile a little too. Kraglin frowned and looked away. 

"Alright, Squirt," Yondu said, moving to sit on the bed. "This is gon' hurt, but you'll be alright."

He started to force the boy down and that's when he began to fight and thrash. Yondu whistled and the arrow came out. The boy had seen how it worked and what it did to one of the ravagers who had become aggressive with the blue captain. He stilled, but a long steady whimper came out of him. He saw the gun in Yondu's hand and tried to raise his head, but Yondu pushed his head back down.

"Look at his knuckles," he told Kraglin, nodding at the  boy's hands as he gripped the covers. "This 'bout to get ugly. Get up here. You're gon' have to hold 'im in a minute."

Kraglin nodded, looking bored, and crawled on top of the boy, straddling him. He forced him onto his stomach, pulling his hands behind his back. Yondu turned his head back to the side. 

"First one," he said, pushing some of the child's hair out of the way as he pulled the trigger. 

The boy screamed, naturally, and began to thrash helplessly under Kraglin. 

"Did it go in?" Kraglin asked.

"Yeah," Yondu said, leaning down to admire his work. "He's bleedin' more than I thought a terran would, but he'll be alright. Hand me the plate."

The boy was sobbing now, trying to move his head, but Yondu wouldn't let him. He screamed again as Yondu pierced the plate at the top and bottom and then pressed his thumb down on it.

"It turn on?" Kraglin asked.

"Boy?" Yondu asked. "Hey, Boy-Kraglin, get off 'im. We're done now."

Kraglin removed himself and the boy quickly sat up and practically moved back so fast he almost fell off the bed.

"Boy, you know what I'm sayin' to you now?" Yondu asked.

The boy's eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side, fingering the plate behind his ear. His eyes moved back to Yondu. He then pulled his hand away from his ear and looked at it.

"You won't bleed long," Yondu promised, wiping blood from his own hand with a nearby hand towel. 

"It's gonna sound funny for a few hours," Kraglin told him. 

"What's your name, Kid?" Yondu asked him.

"Peter," the boy said.

Yondu laughed.

"Ahahahaha! He gets it now. Peter, you didn't do half bad for a kid as old as you gettin' a translator, you know that?"

Peter climbed off of the bed and said, "I have to pee."

He said it in such a small, meek voice that Yondu felt that deep, dark unwelcoming feeling fill him up inside again. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that those children he delivered to Ego were no longer alive. He could feel it. 

"Bathroom's right there," he said, nodding at the ensuite washroom. "You'd best pick up that seat, boy. That's my private lavat'ry."

Peter nodded and went into the bathroom, not closing the door all the way. When he flushed and came out he said, "Your toilet flushes weird."

Yondu and Kraglin both laughed at that. Peter looked between them, and he couldn't help but smile just a little. 

 

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

The terran child became "Peter". 

Yondu didn't want this because they were still delivering him to Ego, but now that Peter could communicate with them, they could no longer look at him as cargo. Yondu was beginning to feel pricks of regret within himself for giving Peter a translator implant because now the kid would not shut up. It was as if having the ability to hear words instead of alien sounds had made his fear of the ravagers dissolve into nothing. He asked everybody what they were doing and why. He never stopped asking 'why' and it was his favorite word. 

"You quit messin' with 'em boys while they're workin'," Yondu told him after dragging him from up the stairs from the lower level of the ship. "Those boys ain't never tasted terran before. They'll eat you up. you hear me, Boy?"

"They'd eat me?" Peter asked, brows furrowing. 

"You seen 'em? The ones with sharp teeth?" Yondu asked, lowering his voice so it sounded more convincing.

To his satisfaction, Peter's eyes widened and he nodded. Yondu released his elbow once they got up the stairs and shook his finger in Peter's face, so close the boy went cross-eyed. 

"You stay where me or Kraglin can see you," he told him. "Leave my boys alone."

He started to walk away and Peter followed him. That was another problem. Now that Peter could understand Yondu, he followed him around even worse than when he had Kraglin. Sometimes Yondu would purposely stop abruptly, making the child walk smack into his back. 

"I think my mom died," he said suddenly. 

Yondu stopped and turned around. Sure enough, Peter bumped into him. He stared at up Yondu with green eyes, big and glittering and intense. 

"What?" He asked, trying to sound annoyed. He'd heard Peter loud and clear, but he honestly had no response for that.

"I ran out of the room," Peter said. "Out of the hospital when you got me. I think Mom was dead and Grandpa didn't want me to see."

Yondu scrubbed a hand down his mouth, nodding. Peter took his walkman from his pocket and looked at it. He looked back at Yondu. 

"She did," Yondu told him, looking away. "I thought you knew, Kid."

Peter only nodded and kept walking, putting the headphones on. Yondu watched him, feeling angry and sad and other emotions he couldn't quite place all at once. He could not get attached to some weakling terran child. 

\---------

Even though he knew about the other children, he had to hear it from Ego. They were only days away from the planet where they would drop Peter off, and Yondu felt like time was sand in an hour glass. It was all happening so fast. 

"Shouldn't be long," he said when he called. "This terran boy of yours is a handful."

Ego laughed.

"I can't wait to see him. His brothers and sisters can't wait either."

Yondu hesitated. 

"How's Marcel?" He asked. "Little Klorian kid? He was a handful too."

There was no child delivered named Marcel. There wasn't even a Klorian child. 

Ego didn't skip a beat.

"Oh, he's terrific," he said. "He runs and climbs all over everything. Drives his brothers and sisters nuts. Patrick will love him."

"Peter," Yondu said coldly, chewing on a hangnail.

"Peter, yes," Ego said. 

After the call ended, Yondu sat in his chair, staring at the communication device. What was Ego doing with these children? His own children. 

A knock sounded at the door, startling him. None of the men dared come up here except Kraglin, and he didn't knock. He knew he didn't have to. 

"Who is it?" Yondu demanded.

There was silence. Yondu waited.

"Peter," a little voice said outside the door. 

Yondu scrubbed a hand down his face and got up to open the door. Peter was standing there, scruffy hair and headphones around his neck. He was now in ravager garb (which Yondu didn't like because it made him feel dirty inside knowing what was possibly in store for the kid). He was in need of a hair cut too, Yondu noted and then shook the idea away. The kid was cargo, not a pet or a crew member or...

"What do you want?" He asked.

Peter shrugged one shoulder.

"You bored or somethin'?" Yondu asked.

Peter shrugged again.

Yondu sighed and opened the door wider and Peter skittered in under his arm. Yondu closed the door and stared at him as Peter went and sat in the chair. 

"Make yerself at home," Yondu said sarcastically, but it went over Peter's head. 

"Are you my dad?" He asked, drawing his legs up and sitting cross-legged in the big chair.

"What?" Yondu frowned. "No. Who told you that? What gave you that idea?"

"My mom said Dad was coming to get me and he was from the stars," Peter said. "But you don't look like me. Mom said my dad looks like me."

"I ain't yer daddy," Yondu said. "I picked you up off terran 'cuz...I got my reasons. You ain't got nothin' there anyway, remember? Your mama's gone."

Peter nodded, scratching his head. Yondu wanted to tell him to get out, but he didn't really know how. He wasn't used to kids. Even the kids he'd delivered to Ego hadn't had much interest in hanging out with him, not the way Peter did. 

Ego.

Yondu felt a familiar churn of emotions fill him once again thinking about the call and the made up Klorian child that Ego had went along with because there were no children there. What had happened to them?

Peter scratched his head again.

"Why you scratchin' like that?" Yondu asked. "You best not have fleas on yer head, Boy."

Before Peter could respond, Yondu moved over to him to stand behind the chair, running his fingers through Peter's thick hair which seemed to be nothing but cowlicks. He groaned, though he was secretly grateful for the distraction from his thoughts about Ego.

"Boy!" He bellowed, pushing Peter's head. "You got lice."

Peter stood up, scratching his head some more. 

"I got it before at the pool," he said. "Mom said it's nothin' to be ashamed of."

"The hell it ain't," Yondu said. "Bugs crawlin' all over yer head. That's not good."

Peter scratched his head some more, examining a bug he pulled out between his fingers. He made a face and looked at Yondu.

"Kid..." Yondu sighed. He got on the communication device and called Kraglin. 

"What's up, Cap'n?" Kraglin asked.

"Meet me in my cabin," Yondu said. 

There was a hesitation.

"Now?" Kraglin asked. "You didn't wanna wait until later-"

"I have the kid in here," Yondu said. "Peter. Boy has lice. I need help gettin' him cleaned up."

There was another hesitation, this time different. Yondu hoped that Kraglin wouldn't try and talk him out of it, reminding him that they would be rid of Peter in a few days anyway so what did it matter if he had lice. 

"I'm on my way, Sir," he said instead. 

\----------

"Why don't we just shave his head?" Kraglin asked as they all squeezed into the ensuite bathroom of Yondu's cabin, Peter sitting on the edge of the tub in his underwear. He scratched and scratched.

"No," Yondu said. "The other boys might ask why and I don't wanna..." he faltered. "There doesn't need to be any questions."

"What if I washed my hair?" Peter asked.

Kraglin shook his head, sitting beside Peter and pulling him closer by the head to dig his fingers around through his hair.

"No," he said. "Those little fuckers burrow under the scalp. Washin' ain't gonna do no good."

Peter snorted.

"What?" Kraglin asked, pulling a louse from Peter's head between his fingers.

"You said 'fuckers' " Peter told him, and Kraglin smiled a little.

"We'll have to wash it," Kraglin said, pulling another one out. "And then comb through and pick out the bugs and the eggs stuck to the strands of hair."

"How long's that gonna take?" Yondu asked.

"Boy's got a lot of hair," Kraglin said, looking up at him. "Could take a while."

Yondu sighed and stared at Peter, who stared back up at him. The blue captain found himself suddenly laughing and Peter grinned, though he was unsure what was so funny. 

"Boy, you are more trouble than yer worth, you know that?" Yondu told him.

Kraglin washed Peter's hair in the tub (too roughly for Peter's liking) and then took him into the room and sat him in a chair so he could begin the delousing process. Yondu stood by watching, arms crossed. 

"How does lice even get in space?" Peter asked, shifting uncomfortably in the chair, bored.

"You prolly brought 'em up here with you," Yondu said. 

"You think head lice is a terran-only thing?" Kraglin asked Peter. He worked carefully, methodically, and as he did so, his gaze moved to Yondu who looked away. 

\-----------

"I don't know what Ego's done to them kids," Yondu told Kraglin, who washed his hands.

Peter was fast asleep in the chair, but thankfully, bug-free. 

"But they ain't there no more," Yondu said. 

Kraglin nodded, drying his hands off. He looked at Peter and asked, "What are you thinkin', Sir?"

"I'm thinkin' kid's safer here with us," Yondu said quietly.

Peter jerked himself half awake, cold and in his underwear looking around as his body shivered involuntarily. 

"Mom?" He asked in a croaky voice, looking around. 

"Hey." Yondu moved to kneel down beside him, shaking the side of his head lightly. "Yer alright. What's wrong, Kid?"

Peter's eyes were open, but had a sleepy haze to them. 

"I can't find my homework folder," he slurred, standing up. "Mom?"

Kraglin went into the bathroom to fetch the boy's clothes and held them out silently to Yondu, who only shook his head and turned his attention back to the barely lucid Peter. 

"Peter," he said. "Hey, Peter. Wake up, kid."

Peter shivered again and blinked heavily, some sense of realization hitting him. He blinked slowly several times at Yondu and then tears filled his eyes and his cheeks and nose turned red.

"I thought I was home," he said, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. "I thought I heard Mom walking around and talking."

"Your mama's gone, Peter," Yondu said, using the heel of his hand to wipe at Peter's eyes and nose. "Your alright, though. Your safe."

Peter started crying, covering his face with his hands and Yondu walked him to the bed, pulling the covers back. He patted his back, a little roughly and said, "Get some sleep, son. You'll feel better in the mornin'."

Peter did as he was told and it only took minutes for him to cry himself back to sleep. Yondu looked at Kraglin, who was still holding Peter's clothes. 

"Well," Kraglin said with a small, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. "This sure puts a damper on things for later, huh?"

He stared at Peter and said, "So you're keepin' him, Sir?"

Yondu nodded.

"What'll you tell the others?" Kraglin wanted to know.

"He's small," Yondu said. "Can fit into places we can't. Good for thievin'."

 

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who leaves kudos and comments for this story! I will try and keep responding to your comments as quickly as I can.  
> Warning about this chapter: Attempted rape. Just so nobody's surprised.

"And then you tie this here," Kraglin said. "And yer done."

"Okay," Peter said, bobbing his head up and down as Kraglin passed the cable to him and watched as the terran struggled to copy what Kraglin had just done. 

"Try again," Kraglin said with a nod when Peter handed it back to him, knotted incorrectly. 

The sound of heavy boots coming down the metal stairs made them both look up to see Yondu. Peter grinned from ear to ear at him before returning to the task at hand. Yondu looked at Kraglin who chewed on his gum, looking bored, and he shrugged at the captain with one shoulder. 

"Quill, after you finish that up, Torra's gon' show you how to clean the air system," Yondu told Peter.

The terran child had been on board for nearly six months now. Yondu was surprised, but relieved that no one had questioned his permanent placement on the ship. Nobody asked why they had not delivered him, but of course, most of the crewmen were smart enough not to question Yondu about any decision he made. Peter was no longer the wary, withdrawn child he'd been when they'd picked him up. Now he was everywhere, all the time, and was constantly pestering the other crew members. Yondu decided to start him off on small chores that would gradually lead to bigger. more important tasks as he got older. There had never been a child aboard the ship, aside from the children they'd delivered to Ego (what happened to them-the question haunted Yondu), and they weren't really sure what to do about having one run around asking questions and wanting to try everybody's food and weapons. 

\----

Peter was not very good at chores. Every day he had a different task with a different ravager assigned to oversee that he did it correctly. It helped Peter to learn about the crew he was now part of. Some ravagers sent him away and completed his chore for him. Others would find him wherever he was and drag him back to do it correctly, sometimes over and over until they were satisfied. Some were nice and joked with him. Others barely spoke to him other than an answering grunt.

Today he was assigned to clean the showers-one of his least favorite things to do. The shower area was a large open space in the lower deck with tile floors and drains and individual shower cubicles. It took forever to scrub and it always smelled of mildew and sweat. Peter didn't even understand why he had to clean the showers because he didn't even use them. Yondu wouldn't let him. Peter wasn't sure  _why_ Yondu wouldn't let him, but Peter was strictly instructed to shower in the captain's ensuite bathroom in his cabin. 

He sat back on his knees, which were wet through his pants, and stared at his bucket of soapy water, which was now an ugly gray color from all of the grime. He heard some one enter the shower area and wondered if it was Koll. Koll was not a ravager to get impatient and finish Peter's tasks for him. Koll was old and boring and apparently never had anywhere to be because he would parade Peter back to a certain task over and over until he felt the job was done right. 

It was not Koll. It was Rox, who had never overseen any of Peter's chores, but Peter knew who he was. Rox was a pretty big deal. He was some kind of mechanic on board and the others were constantly going to him because something was jammed or not working. He was big, probably close to seven feet tall, with gray bumpy skin that Peter imagined might feel similar to a dinosaur if they were still around. He fingernails were black, and looked more like lion claws than actual finger nails. 

He seemed surprised to see Peter, and then looked around.

"You in here cleaning?" He asked in a deep, throaty voice.

Peter nodded. 

Rox chuckled, shaking his head and muttered something about Yondu being a jackass. Peter picked up his bucket and moved to one of the cubicles. He figured if he cleaned the cubicles that might be good enough for Koll. 

He took his rag from the bucket, frowning as he pulled a long stringy ball of hair from it, and wrung it out the way Koll had taught him before beginning to scrub the wall. Rox suddenly startled him, pulling back the curtain of the cubicle and stepping inside. 

"How old are you, Terran?" He asked.

"Eight and a half," Peter said.

Rox nodded, and seemed to be giving Peter an odd look. He looked around before stepping fully into the cubicle, pulling the curtain back in place. Peter watched as he reached over and waved his hand in front of the cold water motion sensor, turning the spray on. Peter put his rag back in his bucket and picked it up. He tried to move past Rox, who blocked him with a large hand.

"Where are you going, Boy?" He asked.

Peter tried to move past him again. 

"You know why the captain keeps you around?" He asked. "Huh? It's because you're so goddamn cute, that's why."

He suddenly grabbed Peter by the arm, gripping it so hard it hurt, and forced him to face the other way, putting him right under the shower spray. Peter struggled against him and yelled, "Lemme go!"

"You hush, Boy!" Rox said as Peter began to kick and attempt to pull away, his boots slipping and squeaking against the wet tile. 

Peter bit him then and Rox grunted out a swear word before slamming Peter into the metal wall. He slammed him so hard that Peter saw white spots in front of his eye and felt a wet, coppery taste in his mouth. He coughed some of it up to see it was blood, and a tooth came out too. His forehead throbbed painfully and he felt something trickle down his hairline and tickle his nose. More blood.

"Get off me!" He cried again, sounding hoarse. 

Rox was ten times bigger and definitely stronger. Peter struggled and struggled, slipping around like he was on roller skates. Rox pulled Peter's shirt over his head and then pulled the boy against him, sticking the tips of his clawed fingers on the waist band of Peter's pants. Peter screamed again, this time just noise, and Rox suddenly raked his nails down Peter's back. It burned and Peter started crying then, doubling over in Rox's grasp. 

"I said hush!" Rox growled, covering the boy's mouth. 

Peter was shaking now, his head throbbing and the gashes on his back bleeding and stinging. The spray of cold water made him shiver and irritated his eyes as water dripped down his face and he could not wipe it away. 

"Quill?" 

Torra's voice echoed in the open room. Rox stilled, his hand pressing tighter on Peter's mouth. Peter listened to boots walking around and then stop just outside of the shower cubicle. Peter wailed pitifully through Rox's hand and then heard the curtain open. Rox released him. Peter turned around to see Torra staring in shock at the sight before him. 

"Listen-" Rox held up his hand with a sigh. 

Torra took out his communication device and said, "Send Stripe and Otwar to the showers." 

Stripe and Otwar were the two biggest guys on the ship and often used to break up drunken brawls and lift very heavy cargo or stolen goods. Peter liked them for the most part because they always sneaked him candy and would let him have a sip of their alcoholic drinks if he told them a funny joke. 

"Send Kraglin too," Torra said, looking at Rox.

Stripe and Otwar were there in minutes and pulled Rox towards them. He did not resist. Kraglin arrived shortly after and his mouth fell open slightly when he saw Peter. He seemed to lose his words for a minute. 

"Take 'im to holdin'," he told Strip and Otwar finally. 

To Torra he said, "Write up a report. Right now."

"Yes," Torra said, nodding dutifully. 

Kraglin looked at Peter, scrubbing a hand down his mouth. He shrugged his coat off and awkwardly wrapped it around the boy like a blanket. He nodded at the boy to follow him. Peter did so, swallowing repeatedly to keep his sobs quiet. Kraglin took him to a room Peter had never been to before. Inside, Yondu had his back to him, and seemed to be taking inventory of several crates stacked on top of each other. The crates seemed to be filled with metallic green and purple coins. 

"Cap'n," Kraglin said, clearing his throat.

Yondu turned around and frowned. 

"What the hell?" He said, walking over to Peter. He looked at Kraglin.

"Torra found 'im," Kraglin said. "With Rox. In, uh, the showers."

Yondu inhaled through his nose loudly and stared at Peter for a long time. 

"I wanna talk with Mr. Torra immediately," he said. "Where's Rox at?"

"Holdin', Sir," Kraglin replied.

"Not for long, he ain't," Yondu said. "Go get Torra."

"Yes, Sir," Kraglin said before leaving the room. 

Yondu knelt down in front of Peter, who began blubbering freely now, embarrassed for doing so. He'd always hated crying in front of people, even his mother, and he furiously wiped at his eyes as he made babyish sounds, feeling ashamed and angry at himself for not being able to stop. Yondu raised Peter's bangs to look at the gash on his head, dark purple with dried blood, and then put his hands on Peter and gently turned him around. Peter felt the captain's fingers touch each of the scratches before turning him back around. 

"He touch you?" He asked, blunt and open.

Peter was eight and his mother had long before instructed him about his private parts and how nobody was allowed to 'touch' him 'that way', so he knew what Yondu meant. He shook his head, wiping snot from his nose. 

"Kay." Yondu nodded.

Peter was grateful that Yondu took him to his cabin instead of making him go to his own, which was actually just a holding area that they had put a mattress and some sheets on one of the shelves. 

"Get cleaned up," Yondu said, nodding at the ensuite bathroom. "Wash your face, take some deep breaths. You need a glass of water? Somethin' to drink?"

Peter shook his head. It almost frightened Yondu, seeing him this broken and quiet again. He patted him on the shoulder and prodded him to the bathroom. Peter turned on the shower and stripped the rest of his clothes off, climbing in. Even the lukewarm water stung his back.

\--------

Rox stood with his hands up in defense, flying arrow at the ready. Yondu paced back in forth in front of him, the other crewmen behind him. Yondu hadn't called them there. They had just come to see what all the fuss was about, but he didn't make them leave. He wanted them to see this. 

"I didn't do anything to him, Captain," Rox said.

"Mr. Torra?" Yondu said, turning to the crowd of crewmen. "How did you say you found Mr. Rox and Mr. Quill again?"

"In the shower," Torra said. "Lots of blood. He had Peter against the wall."

"That sound like nothin' to you, Mr. Rox?" Yondu asked, turning back around. 

"I didn't..." Rox sighed. "I didn't do what you think I did. Please, Sir. I'm important to this crew, you know that. I'm a mechanic. I know the older machinery better than anyone on board-"

"You're important to this crew?" Yondu interrupted him. "That what I heard?"

He turned to the others again. 

"Okay," he said. "I guess since Mr. Rox considers hisself so damn important, we'll make this a democracy vote. Anybody who thinks Mr. Rox deserves to stay on board, raise yer hand."

Nobody raised their hand. Rox sighed again and said, "He's just a terran, Sir-"

"He's a child," Koll spoke up sharply.

It surprised Yondu, but then he realized that many of these men had children of their own or nieces and nephews. Many of them had escaped prison and simply couldn't go home, but that didn't mean they didn't care for the little ones they'd left behind. 

"I lost my little boy in the Goxaian government overhaul," Co-os said. "I miss him every goddamn day and to think that some sick fuck on board would even consider..."

He shook his head, looking away. 

"You need me-" Rox said and Yondu whistled, sending the arrow straight through his heart.

\-------------

Peter was still in Yondu's cabin when Yondu and Kraglin came in with three metal trays of food. Peter was sitting in Yondu's chair, wearing his old wet pants and Kraglin's coat. 

"Get 'im some clothes," Yondu told Kraglin, who got on his handheld communication device and repeated the order. 

"You like gins beans, right?" Yondu asked. "Also got you some chocolate cake. I know you like that."

Peter didn't say anything. Yondu set the trays down. 

"Come on now," he said. "Don't clam up. Talk to me, Boy."

"I'm not strong," Peter said, looking at him. He said it darkly, like he was talking about someone else, accusing almost. "I'm a wuss."

"You ain't a wuss," Yondu said. "Rox's a grown man. Yer a kid. Wasn't a fair fight."

Kraglin shook his head.

"Not fair at all," he said, already starting to eat. 

Peter still stared into space, scowling. 

"I don't know how to fight," he said sullenly.

"We'll teach you," Yondu said in a surprisingly soft voice. "Don't'chu worry. You'll learn."

Peter looked at him again, his expression changing.

"You promise?" He asked. 

"I promise," Yondu said nodding. "Now eat 'for yer dinner gets cold."

"Before I eat that cake," Kraglin joked with a straight face.

\---------

"You think I'm gettin' soft on that boy? " Yondu asked Kraglin later that night. 

Kraglin zipped up his pants with a shrug. 

"He's just a kid," he offered. "He ain't got nobody else."

"That's what I'm worried about," Yondu said with a sigh. "I don't know if it's right to keep 'im. I was thrown into battle just a little older than he is now. I told these boys we're keepin' him 'cuz he's good for thievin'."

"Oh, he will be," Kraglin snorted. "He steals off the guys all the time. Steals their liquor , their money. He don't know what he wants it for, but he takes it, scurries back to his lil' pantry and hoards it."

Yondu smiled.

"Like a lil' pack rat?" He asked. 

Kraglin nodded, chuckling. Yondu chuckled too.

"That boy," he muttered. 

After several seconds of silence, he said, "Alright. He goes on the next mission. See how he does."

 

 

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on," Kraglin said, popping gum as he blocked another one of Peter's punches with his open hand. "You gotta be faster than that, Kid."

Yondu found them sparring out near the lake. The ship had landed several days ago on Xandar, the stable and civilized nation of Pryxis. Peter seemed to be happier than he had been in a long time. Of course, now that there was sunshine and fresh air and actual land to run around on, it made sense. 

"It's not fair!" Peter grunted, spinning in mid air as he jumped to try and hit Yondu's first mate again. "You're way taller than me."

He fell on his back and stared up at the blue captain, who loomed over him. 

"Boy, get up," Yondu said and Peter did so. 

Yondu raised the boy's bangs and then the sleeve of his shirt. Peter's skin was bright red from the sun.

"Sunburned," Kraglin explained, shaking his head. "You should see the bug bites on his legs."

"I used to get sunburned and bug bites back on Terra," Peter said, trying to catch Kraglin off guard with a low punch, but of course, it was casually blocked. 

Yondu frowned. "What'd you call it?"

Peter had been with the Ravagers for a little over a year now, but he'd always referred to his home world as 'Earth'. It was the first time Yondu had heard him call it what most other world inhabitants called it. 

Peter looked at him with genuine, innocent confusion.

"Terra," he said and then fake grunted as Kraglin pulled him into a choke hold under his arm. 

Yondu tried to not smile and instead flicked his nose indifferently, looking towards the setting sun. Kraglin released Peter, who was taller now than when they'd picked him up. His thick, reddish brown hair was cut into a neater, more masculine style fit for a ravager (of course, a ravager cut it so there was that). He had proved himself to be what Yondu had told the crew he would be, a great thief, and had several small scars to show for it. 

Peter wasn't just good a thieving because he was little. He had a natural talent for watching his feet when he crept around and knowing when to duck and it was the only time he could willingly stay quiet. 

"Mission's tomarruh'," Yondu said. "We gon' steal some parts from the base here and then head out."

"Aw!" Peter fake pouted, grabbing onto Yondu's arm. "Just one more day? There's a Raze game happening in town! I saw the sign for it!"

"We ain't got tickets," Kraglin said, frowning.

Yondu scuffed Peter's head playfully.

"You think we gon' steal from a miltry' operation and then stay for a ball game?" He asked him. 

Peter laughed, aware of how absurd the idea was, and let go of the captain. He ran out towards the lake, jumping off one of the small cliffs and into the water with a loud, echoing cry. 

"Best be careful now!" Yondu called. "Horaks in that water. They'll bite yer toes clean off!"

Peter only ducked his head under the water and when he came back up, cheeks full, he spit out a bunch of water in their direction. Kraglin flipped him the bird and Yondu laughed and said, "Hurry up, Quill! I'm hungry! We need to go eat!"

Peter swam up and floated on his back, kicking his feet.

"Just leave me here," he said. "I could stay here forever. I'm tired of stupid space and cleaning the ship."

"You barely clean," Yondu pointed out. "Don't think I don't know them other boys get tired of bein' around you all day and do yer chores for you. I got eyes on the back of my head."

"No you don't," Peter said, kicking his legs and moving his arms. "Only Baka does."

"He's such a smartass," Kraglin muttered with a snort.

Yondu shrugged one shoulder and said, "Yeah, he's due for a good lick."

Peter finally swam back over to the rocks and climbed up, shaking off like a wet dog. 

"I wish we could live here," Peter said. "With the sun and the grass-" he knelt down to feel the grass. "And I could go to Raze games and not have to watch them on the monitor. The other guys are too loud and always getting into fights about who's gonna win."

"Yeah, yeah," Yondu said, walking ahead of him. "Heel toe, Kid."

\------------

Now that they were docked, Peter was hardly on the ship. It was late at night when Yondu began asking around to find out where he was, but nobody seemed to know. 

"He'll come back when he's hungry," Kraglin said, once they were in Yondu's cabin. 

Yondu popped his back and said, "Boy's gettin' too big to hang all over me the way he does."

"When he stomps all over the grated floor," Kraglin added. "You can hear him all the way down the corridor."

"Yeah..." Yondu stared into space. "He's gettin' big."

Kraglin sat on the bed and stared at Yondu.

"What're you thinkin', Cap?" He asked sincerely. 

"What do you think of the kid?" Yondu asked. "I mean, you all as a whole. Havin' that lil' runt runnin' around."

Kraglin seemed surprised by the question and his eyebrows raised slightly in thought. He relaxed on the bed and shook his head.

"The others take to him alright," he said. "He's just like a little hyper mutt runnin' around wantin' everyone's attention."

Yondu nodded, but still seemed to be far away in thought. He scrubbed a hand down his mouth and sighed. 

"He likes it here," he said. "Closest thing to home he'll ever get."

"We can't stay here," Kraglin said, frowning.

"No, I know that," Yondu replied, sounding annoyed. "But that don't mean he can't."

"Leave him here?" Kraglin sat up. "On Xandar?"

"It was good 'nuff fer you," Yondu pointed out accusingly. "He'll be alright here. Sunshine and lakes and what not."

"Who would he stay with?" Kraglin wanted to know. 

"They have orphan homes all over this country," Yondu said. "It's a sanctuary planet."

Kraglin stared at Yondu for a long time, who seemed to get nervous and scratched his bald, blue head. 

"Peter will be fine once we get back up," Kraglin finally said. "If that's what you're worried 'bout."

"I'm worried that we ain't doin' right by that kid," Yondu confessed. "I ain't his daddy, he ain't got no mama here, no kids his age, no sun..."

Kraglin nodded. Yondu sat on the bed next to him and said, "I think we should leave him."

\----------

"And then the purple ninja turtle is Donatello," Peter continued to a very bored Ravager in the mess hall. The poor Ravager, Gongin, was trying to nurse a beer, but Peter was sitting so close to him that their bodies were touching and he was going on and on about crime-fighting, pizza-loving reptiles or some nonsense. 

"Quill!" Yondu approached the table and snapped his fingers. "Where you been, Boy? We were lookin' for you."

Peter blinked and then said, "Oh! I went into the city and walked around. I like walking around."

Gongin looked longingly at Yondu, who seemed to get the silent message to get Peter away from him, and tugged at the boy's sleeve. 

"I haven't seen this city," He told Peter. "Why don't we take us a walk? You can show me around."

"Okay!" Peter jumped up and slid off of the bench. 

The two of them passed Kraglin on the way out, who nodded knowingly at Yondu and said, "Be good, Kid."

Peter gave him a funny look because that was not something he normally told him, but he was too excited about the walk so he ignored it. Pryxis got cold at night and Peter shivered, extra cold because of his sunburn, as they started out of the woods towards the town. He'd been so excited that he'd forgot his jacket. 

"You like it a lot here, huh?" Yondu asked after several long minutes of silence.

Peter nodded. Once they got to the edge of the woods, they were at the top of the grassy hill, where just below the city was gleaming with lights and life. Peter took off down the hill, loving the lack of control he had as he tried to keep up with his own legs. Yondu met him at the bottom and couldn't help but laugh a little as Peter panted. 

"This remind you of Terra?" He asked him.

"Kinda," Peter said. "The cars are different and people don't wave the same."

A street vendor hovered by with a cart filled with fluffy, glowing drinks with light up straws in them. The kind of drinks that were made to have tourist children beg their parents to pay an outrageous amount for one. Peter looked at the cart with wide eyes. 

"You want one?" Yondu asked, nudging him slightly.

Peter looked at him as if trying to decide if it was some kind of trick. He played it safe and didn't respond. Yondu took him by the shoulder to make him stop walking and whistled at the vendor. He paid for one of the drinks and handed it to the boy. 

"It pops in my mouth!" Peter grinned. "And look at my tongue!"

He stuck out his tongue to show it was glowing neon green. 

"Yeah..." Yondu wasn't impressed. "Don't tell 'em boys I got you somethin'. They already feel I spoil yer lil' ass rotten."

Peter slurped through the straw loudly, looking up at Yondu. 

"Am I gonna be part of the mission tomorrow?" He asked. "Do you need me to disarm the security? Or crawl through a vent shaft?"

"Mmm..." Yondu shrugged. "I don't think we'll be needin' yer assistance on this one, Mr. Quill."

An exasperated looking Xandarian father walked past them dragging two screaming pink little girls. Yondu and Peter turned their heads to watch as the twin toddlers screamed and kicked and stomped their feet, pointing at the vendor.  A few minutes later, a mother talking into a communication device with a hologram screen in front of her, tugged on the leash of a baby she was leading.

"Come on, Armil," she said. "Mommy needs to get home and start dinner."

The baby waved its chubby fingers at Peter and Yondu. Peter waved back. He seemed to really enjoy people watching, but then again, he saw the same people day after day, Yondu realized, his life always unchanging. 

"Do you wanna try it?" Peter suddenly asked, thrusting the cup up at Yondu.

"What? No, Boy, you drink it. I can't handle all that sugar and junk they put in there," Yondu said, making a face.

Peter gave him an 'oh really' look.

"I passed out one time only taking ONE sip of your Snake Juice," He reminded him. 

Yondu laughed.

"That was funny," he pointed out. "That stuff'll knock you out on yer ass cold."

"It did knock me out on my ass cold!" Peter retorted, but he was grinning. "Just one sip!"

He shivered slightly and Yondu shrugged off his coat.

"You cold, Son? Here," he mumbled, draping it over Peter's shoulders and patting him roughly on the back. 

Peter clutched the edge of the heavy coat with his free hand to keep it from coming off. The walk brought them to a small amusement park, which was closed for the night, so they turned to head back. Peter yammered on about Ninja Turtles and video games and super heroes. It was still foreign to Yondu, all of it, but he'd heard Peter go on about these things so many times that it was familiar all the same. 

"Hold on," he said, stopping in front of a building. "We need to make a stop right here."

Peter looked at the building, frowning. 

"It's the police station," he said skeptically. 

Peter was young, but he knew the Ravagers were criminals by definition, and since he was part of the Ravagers, any kind of law enforcement by default was an enemy. He stared at Yondu.

"Why do we need to stop here?" He asked.

"We gon' get on their good side," Yondu said, prodding him up the shiny stone steps. "Make it less obvious that it was us at the mission."

"Seriously?" Peter asked sarcastically.

"Don't be fresh," Yondu grumbled, pulling the boy's ear. 

They walked inside and Yondu pointed to a bench.

"Go sit over there," he ordered.

Peter didn't budge.

"I said get," Yondu said, flicking the side of his head with his thumb and middle finger.

Peter went and sat on the bench, watching the people around him, which were much more interesting than the people outside. One was a guy in cuffs yelling and swearing about some girl and how she was a ho. Another was a woman telling an officer something was ridiculous and she would be reporting him to NOVA. The officer rolled his eyes and walked away.  He glanced at Yondu, speaking to somebody at the front desk. He glanced back at Peter and the officer who'd rolled his eyes was called over. Peter sat up a little straighter when he realized the officer was looking at him. 

"Hi, Peter," he said cheerfully, walking over. "My name's Officer Dak."

"Hi," Peter said, shifting uncomfortably, looking at Yondu who was still talking to the clerk at the desk. 

"Are you hungry?" Officer Dak asked. "Can I get you something? Some cookies maybe?"

Peter's eyes moved to the left and then to the right. He had not been talked to like some silly little kid for some time now. 

"No...thank you?" He said slowly.

Yondu walked back over and knelt down.

"Listen, Kid," he said. "I think yer better off here. This fine law establishment said there's a place right here in town full of boys yer age."

"They go on field trips," Officer Dak said. "They go to school, and some of them even grow up and get into NOVA."

Peter frowned and stood up. 

"What?" He asked loudly. "I don't wanna stay here! You can't leave me here!"

"You just asked me tuh leave you here this afternoon," Yondu said.

Peter burst into tears then, like a water balloon getting pricked with a needle, and gripped Yondu's arms with his hands. 

"Don't leave me here!" He begged.

"Can you just give us a minute?" Yondu asked and Officer Dak nodded, walking away.

"What did you tell them?" Peter demanded, wiping snot and tears from his face. "Yondu, what did you say?"

"I told them I couldn't take care you no more and did they have any good orphan homes 'round here," he said. "Be serious, Pete. You don't like bein' on the ship. You wanna be with people and go to Raze games, don'chu?"

Peter shook his head so hard he risked whiplash. 

"I DO wanna stay on the ship!" He said. "Is it because I annoy everybody? I'll stop! I'll stop bugging everyone!"

"It ain't about that," Yondu said quietly. "Now listen' at yerself. You over here makin' a big scene. Everyone's lookin' at you."

"I don't care," Peter said, but he lowered his voice. "I don't wanna stay here."

He hugged Yondu then, the first time he'd ever hugged him, and kept his arms wrapped tightly around the man's neck. Yondu sighed and patted his back. 

"Yer bein' silly now," he murmured, but leaned down to inhale the sweaty, boyish scent of Peter's thick hair. 

"You got me off Terra," Peter said, looking up. "You said you had your reasons, I remember!"

"I did," Yondu agreed, nodding. "But I didn't plan on keepin' you 'round forever."

Peter pulled away and shrugged off Yondu's coat he was still wearing. Officer Dak approached them and said, "Wasn't nice of Mr. Blork to take care of you after your parents died? Say goodbye now."

"Blow me, Asshole!" Peter said, kicking him in the shin before taking off through the sliding doors.

"Peter Jason Quill!" Yondu barked, standing up. He sighed and looked down at Officer Dak, who'd doubled over.

"I have to hand it 'im," he said. "That was good."

Officer Dak shot him a look. 

"Peter!" Yondu called with a sharp whistle, running out the door. 

 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger, I know, but this is going to be kind of a longish plot and I'm typing this up on my phone and it's exhausting. The next part will be up soon so as usual-questions and comments appreciated! I respond to them all!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a short chapter, but this was originally supposed to be part of the previous chapter but typing on a phone is very tedious. There will be more chapters, if you're wondering, and I want to thank everyone who leaves kudos and comments and I try to answer comments as quickly as I can, just be patient with me please. I promise I will respond to yours. If you have any ideas for Peter as he gets older, please don't hesitate to shoot them. A few readers have already given me ideas I like and I plan to incorporate them.

Yondu started to leave the police station, but Officer Dak caught up to him, gripping him by the wrist.

"It might make it harder if you go after him," he explained. "You can go ahead and leave. We'll find him and place him into care."

Yondu stared at him in disbelief, but he bit his tongue. After all, he'd just made up some story about how he was with a church and traveled the galaxy picking up orphans to bring to Xandar. He had just told the officer and clerk that he had only had Peter for a few weeks. The time he was supposed to have had him. He simply nodded and watched as Officer Dak walked up to the clerk's desk, all show and professionalism about starting a search party. It was obvious that not much happened in this quaint, perfect city. 

It was starting to drizzle, flashes of bright blue lightning up above with heavy winds when Yondu left the station. His feet dragged slightly as he thought of Peter suddenly-the hurt and shock on his face when Yondu told him he was going to leave him here. He thought about other things too. He thought about Peter gathering a circle of Ravagers around him as he danced to his goofy music one of the engineers on board had figured out how to hook up the audio system on board. He thought about him rough housing with the crew and sticking his fingers in their food and taking sips of their alcoholic beverages. He thought of Peter in his cabin (where nobody except Kraglin was allowed), spinning around in the captain's chair, flopping onto his bed, rummaging through his personal things. He thought about his proud face after a mission and his pout after he was scolded or roughed up by himself or Kraglin. He thought about the times late in the night he would make his rounds around the ship and open the door the storage area which was Peter's 'room', where the boy would be on the middle shelf where a ratty mattress had been placed upon the grated metal, snoring loudly, spread out like a starfish. 

Yondu tried to think about where Peter might go. He contacted Kraglin, who said the boy had not returned to the ship. That made sense. He was angry and hurt and probably felt betrayed. Why in the universe would he go back to the ship? As he aimlessly walked around the city, his thoughts backtracked to their walk together, the drink, the people watching, and then he knew exactly where he would find Peter.

\------------

It was sprinkling even more when he opened the gates of the closed amusement park. To his satisfaction, the lock had already been picked and the security system had been disarmed. He took his arrow from his coat pocket and whistled loudly, following the red streak of light to the only other organic life form in the large, abandoned area. It whizzed around several rides and tarped up kiosks, all the way to a large structure with a colorful sign next to it that read 'Reach for the Stars'. His eyes followed the arrow as it turned direction, flying straight up to the row of seats at the top. He could just barely make out a moving figure sitting in one of those seats. The arrow stopped just in front of it, and he grinned when he saw Peter peek over the edge of the car. 

"Go away!" Peter said. 

"Don't start with me, Quill," Yondu called back in what he hoped sounded like a warning tone. "Get'cher ass down here!"

"No!" Peter said. "You'll just take me back to the station and leave me here! I'm not stupid!"

"I didn't say you were stupid," Yondu yelled, and whistled just enough to have the arrow rip through Peter's jacket as it tugged him to the edge of the car and the boy toppled out, instinctively grabbing onto the arrow as he fell straight down. 

Yondu backed up a little, whistling loudly, and just as the arrow came back, he caught the gangly-legged nine year old in his arms, and the arrow in his hand. Peter started crying then, wrapping his arms around Yondu's neck and blubbered into his coat, great loud sobs that hardly ever came out of him. Peter cried as much as any terran child, Yondu imagined, but he also knew that crying was a very private matter for him, and rarely did he do it in front of others. 

Something clicked in Yondu then, like he'd been a broken machine that finally got that piece that made it work, and he bounced Peter slightly in his arms to get a better grip on him and pulled him more tightly against him, one hand on the back of the boy's head that was buried in his shoulder. He used his other hand to rub his back. 

"Don't leave me, Yondu," Peter sobbed into the captain's coat. "Don't leave."

Thunder sounded then as the rain came down, hard and heavy, drowning out Peter's crying. Yondu bounced him again, walking them out of the rain under a nearby canopy that covered a few vending areas. 

"Alright, dammit, you win," he muttered, pressing his back to the nearest wall. "you can stay."

They stayed like that until the rain died down, which seemed like forever, but at the same time, wasn't long enough. 

\---------

Most of the men were asleep when Yondu and Peter returned. Peter walked wordlessly behind Yondu onto the ship and into his quarters where Yondu wordlessly pointed to the bathroom. Peter left the room to go gather his sleeping clothes and towels from his own room. Yondu scrubbed a hand down his mouth, wondering what in the galaxy was wrong with him. What was this kid doing to him?

He looked up suddenly to see Kraglin enter the room. He simply shook his head and ran a hand over his head. Kraglin nodded and moved out of the way as Peter squeezed past him and headed for the en suite bathroom to wash up and change.

"Kid's got a hold on me," Yondu muttered, finally looking up at his first mate. "I shoulda never taken' that Terra job."

Peter came out of the shower about a minute later (Yondu often wondered how clean the kid actually got because he was the fastest shower-taker in the universe), his hair disheveled and wet and he was in his t-shirt and cotton pants, holding his wet clothes in a ball. He looked first at Kraglin and then at Yondu.

"G'night," he mumbled, hurrying out of the room to his own storage area.

An awkward silence lingered after he left and Kraglin let out a snort, quickly wiping his nose to pretend he was clearing his sinuses. Yondu's brows furrowed.

"What?" He wanted to know.

"He's a good kid," Kraglin said with a shrug.

Yondu knew that wasn't the answer to his question, but Kraglin was one of those rare individuals who seemed to know what everyone was thinking all the time, and forgave others for their mistakes before they ever even made them. Yondu simple sighed and gave his first mate's shoulder a firm squeeze before letting his hand trail down the other man's skinny arm as he headed for the shower himself.

\-------

Peter was asleep when Yondu made his rounds that night, as he always was. This time, his body was not sprawled out, the blanket and sheet hanging halfway off the shelf on even on the floor as it usually was. This time, he was curled up into a ball on his side, something in his hand. Yondu frowned slightly, approaching the middle shelf Peter slept on which was just below eye level with him standing. It was the cup the drink had come in, empty and washed out. Yondu brushed some of the boy's hair back from his face and wiped some of the drool away coming out of his mouth. He picked up the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered him up.

"Ego may be your father," he said quietly, carefully taking the cup from his hand and setting it on the shelf above him. "But he ain't'cher daddy."

Those words he would never tell Peter while the boy was awake, but he smiled anyway, knowing that hole inside of him that he spent years trying to fill with riches and booze and drugs and hookers and broken laws...was filled and all it had taken were those little skinny arms wrapped around his neck and those words.

_Don't leave me_

 

To Ben Continued... 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to give another big thank you to everyone who has been reading this fic and leaving kudos and comments. I apologize if I've been at all slow to respond to your comment as well. This chapter is actually going to be a little different. It's going to be more Peter narrative than Yondu-which it has been, but I hope you still enjoy reading it as I enjoyed writing it and be sure to let me know your thoughts or ideas :)

Peter lay on his mattress, staring up at the metal shelf above him. He was usually awake earlier than most of the crew, even though some of them were strictly on night duty, but he could always hear everyone start walking around and talking nearly an hour after he opened his eyes.

He fumbled around blindly under his pillow until he found his Walkman and slipped the headphones on over his ears. The batteries had run out months ago, but a man at one of the many illegal trading outfits had fitted it with a device that allowed it to play without standard Terran batteries. Peter pressed the fast forward button, knowing the amount of time it took to find what he was looking for by heart and hit play just as The Five Stairsteps' 'Ooh Child' started. 

Peter curled up on his side, soothed by the song he'd known since he was very small. He let the slightest tug of a smile creep on one side of his face as he remembered the home video his mother had shown him when he was around seven. In the grainy home video he'd been a small toddler screaming his head off, rolling around the floor, his tiny fists grasping at anything they could to pull or throw. His mother had filmed it quietly, and Peter could still hear her stifled chuckles behind the camera. 

 _"Peter's very upset right now,"_ He remembered her saying in her sweet, southern accent. The way she spoke had sounded like honey being poured.  _"Peter, Honey, why're you so mad?"_

Peter could still see his former three year old self stomping the heels of his tiny sneakers so hard against the carpeted floor that one of them had come off. He'd sat up, tears streaming down his cheeks, his bottom lip sticking out. 

 _"Peter?"_ Peter shivered at the memory of her voice, so soft and understanding.  _"Peter, tell Mama what's wrong."_

 _"No more nana,"_ Little Peter had replied shakily before falling back onto the floor in a puddle of shrieks and tears.

 _"Peter's mad because there are no more bananas left,"_ his mother had said with an Oscar worthy serious tone.  _"I told him tomarruh's grocery store day, but he wants another banana right now, and there ain't anymore."_

Little Peter was exhausted by then, lying on his side, thumb in his mouth, hiccuping as a result from all of his screaming and flailing. 

 _"Peter?"_ The camera had shifted, his mother now kneeling beside him. " _Do you want Mama to sing to you?"_

 _"Yeah,"_ Little Peter had squeaked, waving her closer with his free hand, the other still in his mouth.  _"Sing to me, Mama."_

The camera had gone off then, but Peter knew what had happened next because it had happened many times after that. His mother had scooped him up in her arms and sang 'Ooh Child' to him, murmuring those lyrics into his hair. As he got older, she would still sing that song. She would sing it when he was sick and feeling cranky and when he broke his arm on the tire swing and when Jack Hill moved away to Wisconsin and the night she told him her illness was terminal, and had to explain to him what terminal meant. 

Peter shifted uncomfortably at the memory. He remembered every detail, from the moment he'd been picked up from school early and brought home by Grandpa Quill. His mother had been in the living room, her face wet with tears. Even without any hair and a lot thinner than she had been, Peter had always felt she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

" _No!"_ Peter had wailed after Grandpa Quill and his mother had slowly and carefully explained what has happening with her illness and what was  _going_ to happen in the next few months. 

Peter remembered all three of them crying together, him in his mothers arms, Grandpa Quill seated beside them rubbing Peter's back. After Grandpa Quill had gone to go get groceries for dinner, leaving Peter and his mother alone for a few hours, his mother had held him against her and told him all about her childhood and how she had lost her own mother when she was just a little older than Peter.

" _There's a song I've been meaning to teach you,"_ she had told him, and then began to softly sing it to him. 

 _"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside,"_ her beautiful voice had sang, even though she sounded more hoarse than usual.  _"I'm not one of those who can easily hide."_

Peter had listened to her song, all the way through, wishing the two of them could stay on the couch like that forever.

_"My gift is my song and this one's for you"_

_"...how wonderful life is while you're in the world"_

If Peter could have one more thing from Terra, it would be for that song to be on his Awesome Mix tape. Of course, he would never go back there, not in a million years. He could never go back. Not to Grandpa Quill. Not to his bedroom, his posters, his baseball cards, his friends, his neighborhood. He didn't deserve to go back. 

"Quill!"

His thoughts were interrupted when Torra opened the door to his storage closet/room. Peter sat up and pulled the headphones down around his shoulder. 

"C'mon." Torra nodded at him. "You're on kitchen duty with me."

Normally Peter would groan and drag his feet, but he was actually happy for the distraction this morning. He followed to Torra to the kitchen behind the mess hall and cut up vegetables and meat without complaint. He washed dishes properly and didn't leave bits of food on them. He put things away the way they were actually supposed to go. Torra frowned at him, scratching his mustache. 

"You sick or something?" He asked.

Peter shook his head.

"Well," Torra said with a sigh. "Get goin'. See who else needs you. You're freakin' me out over here by actually being a diligent cabin boy."

He meant it as a joke, but Peter only managed a tiny smile as he left. He didn't go wandering around as he normally did, especially around the most dangerous parts of the Elector-which were his favorite parts because he always secretly hoped Yondu would eventually let him assist someone in one of those areas. Instead, he went straight back to his room and sat on his mattress, playing his music again.

Something had happened a week ago and he was beginning to feel strange about it. Yondu had tried to dump him, claiming it was for the best and then later had told him it was a test to see how loyal Peter was to him and that he did it to all new Ravagers. Peter had only stared at him, unconvinced. Peter had never had a father. His mother hadn't even mentioned anything about one until she'd started to get sick. Before that, if he ever asked, she'd just dismissed the question or changed the subject.

Peter was jealous of his friends who went fishing with their fathers and to baseball games. At first, he'd tried to lie and say his father was on a business trip, but after a while, his friends caught on that nobody is gone on a business trip forever. Peter became more creative in his lies. His father was a secret agent, and then a captain on a submarine, and then a fighter pilot, and then a rock star.

His mother had told him on her death bed that his father would come back and get him, and that he was from the stars. When Yondu showed up, Peter had honestly wondered for a little while if _he_ was the father his mother had gone on about. It didn't take Peter very long to figure out how untrue that was. For one thing, Yondu was a different species, and for another, his mother would have never let Yondu one foot in her clean house, not with his constantly dirty boots and bad habits. His mother used to pop him with her slippers or a fly swatter when he would track mud on the kitchen floor. 

He smiled, imagining Yondu sauntering into his Missouri home with muddy boots and his mother coming into the living room snapping at him and pointing to his boots the way she did Peter, her hands flying to her hips. Peter actually covered his mouth even though no one was around, suppressing his giggles at the thought of Yondu getting spanked with a fly swatter and then ordered to take off his dripping boots immediately.

 _"Lord, Jesus, Yondu!"_ His mother would tell the blue captain. _"I didn't raise you in a barn!"_

Of course, she probably wouldn't say that to Yondu, but the idea was still pretty funny. He also imagined Yondu living in that house past the parts of getting scolded by his mother. He laid down, arms behind his head, imagining running through the fallen leaves in the yard into the house, the smell of cookies or brownies in the kitchen.

 _"Football practice!"_ He cried in his imagination. _"I gotta have someone take me to football practice!"_

 _"Where's the fire?"_ Yondu would say. _"Keep yer pants on. I'll get you there."_

Peter had never signed up for Pee Wee football because all of the other boys' fathers were either coaches, assistant coaches, or helpers that carpooled the kids around from game to game and provided snacks and Pizza Hut outings. Little League Baseball had been enough for Peter to know sports only showed him how dad-less he really was. He hadn't been able to bear the thought of football in the fall.

 _"You make sure he's careful, Yondu,"_ his mother would say, putting on her earrings to go to book club. It was something she'd never been able to do because she was worked all hours at the local K-Mart and was a full time mom after that. In Peter's imagination, she ran the book club.

 _"Yeah, yeah,"_ Yondu said, grabbing Peter as they began to play fight.

 _"I mean it,"_ his mother replied, cleaning off the coffee table to prepare it for book club snacks. _"Make sure he keeps his helmet on and don't let those other boys pick on him. No tacklin' either."_

 _"Meri,"_ Yondu would say because that would be his nickname for 'Meredith'. _"The boy's in football, not ballet or tiddly winks club. He's gon' get tackled."_

Peter would talk Yondu's head off all the way to practice and all of the other boys would be awed by his Yaka arrow. They would all ask to come over to Peter's house some time and stay the night and when they did, Yondu would tell them stories from all of his adventures and make them laugh and wish he was their dad.

That's what made Peter feel weird.

Yondu was not his dad. Yondu was not his father. He was his captain and yes, he protected him from the rest of the crew, but that was only while he was little. When he grew up, things would be different. The other men told him that, and Peter felt embarrassed for thinking otherwise. 

\---------

Peter continued to follow Yondu everywhere he went. He still felt he had that right because Yondu had let him hug him. He had retrieved him, brought him back on the ship. No matter what their relationship was, it was something, and Peter planned to hang onto it. 

He still used Yondu's shower. At first he'd been confused by the strange order not to use the community showers, but after what had happened with Rox, he knew why. Yondu did it to keep him safe. 

Peter also went into the captain's cabin whenever he wanted. Sometimes he got scolded for it, but getting scolded by Yondu wasn't really that big of a deal. Peter had learned that his bark was a lot worse than his bite. Every once in a while he got scuffed or popped in the mouth, but nothing his own mother hadn't done, and Yondu didn't spank him. If his mother saw what the Ravagers were making her son into, Peter wouldn't be able to walk straight for a week she would lick him so good. She would probably line all of the Ravagers up in a long line and run straight down with a swatter or slipper. 

\------

That night, Peter went into Yondu's room and heard the shower running. He climbed onto the bed, under the covers, and took out the Yaka arrow from the drawer beside the bed, turning it over in his hands, bored. He waited and waited, getting so bored that he even contemplated going back to his own room to fetch his Walkman, but just as he started to get up, he heard the shower cut off and the bathroom door open. 

Peter put the arrow away and waited, rubbing his sock-clad feet together. When the door opened, it was not Yondu.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Kraglin exclaimed in fright when he saw Peter, and quickly shut the door, opening it again holding a towel in front of himself.

Peter's brows furrowed. 

"Why are you in there?" He asked.

"Why are  _you_ in here?" Kraglin countered, rubbing his eyes in a tired fashion. The same way Peter's mother did when he was driving her crazy. 

"Who is it?" Peter heard Yondu call from inside.

Peter frowned even more. 

"Were you guys in the shower together?" He asked. 

Yondu came out, towel wrapped around his waist under his gut and stared at Peter. 

"You don't have no business comin' here in here like this," he told him, as he usually did, but he simply went to collect his clothes. 

Peter laid down on the bed and said, "I'm bored."

"It's late," Yondu said. "You should be asleep."

"In your own room," Kraglin added.

Peter rolled onto his stomach and reached out to open the drawer again. Yondu whistled and the arrow came out, poking Peter in the forehead. Peter laughed and said 'ouch' at the same time.

"Keep your paws out my drawers," Yondu said. 

He took his clothes back into the bathroom and Kraglin just shook his head, sitting next to Peter as he collected clothes from the floor. He reached over and gave Peter a noogie, smiling a little.

"Little butthole," he told him affectionately. 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Yondu watched Peter from the mirror as he shaved. The boy was constantly wandering in and out of Yondu's cabin during the night cycles when there wasn't much to be done. The newness of space travel had long worn off months ago and Peter grew bored easily these days. He was currently on Yondu's bed, boots and all, staring up at a puzzle ball he'd bought with his own units at the most recent trading post. 

"When are we gonna go somewhere?" He groaned, tossing the ball at his feet.

"Don'chu have chores to do?" Yondu asked, swearing as he nicked himself with the razor.

Peter sat up.

"Are you bleeding?" He asked.

Yondu knew he wasn't concerned with his well being, the little shit. He picked up a nearby towel and pressed it to the underside of his jaw. By that time, Peter was at his side, staring at the blue blood dripping into the sink. He looked up at Yondu, his green eyes big and curious. 

"When do I start shaving?" He asked, rubbing his face with both hands.

"When your testicles drop," Yondu said. "Yer all up in my biz! Why don't you go find somethin' to do? Chase a rat or somethin'."

Peter merely rolled his eyes and began walking around the room, picking up things and rummaging in his usual way. Yondu dressed and sat on the bed to pull his boots on. He called a sharp 'HEY' when Peter picked up a blaster gun from the shelf. 

"I just wanna go someplace," the boy said. "When are we gonna go on a mission again?"

"If I take you someplace," Yondu asked. "Will you keep your mitts off my personal property?"

Peter, holding an old relic dagger, nodded. Yondu raised his eyebrows and Peter set the dagger back down and nodded again. Yondu sighed and stood up and Peter danced him around in a circle, jumping over to the door, watching Yondu to make sure he was really going to take him somewhere. As they exited the cabin, Yondu began barking orders into his communicator to certain Ravagers to keep things running smoothly while he was away, simply saying he had certain 'business' to attend. 

In all honesty, he felt guilty about having Peter on the ship for so long. Peter was a kid and kids didn't like to be cooped up places. He knew he wasn't kidding any of his crew when he walked by them with Peter hanging off of him, trying to climb on him that his errand was a secret. They all knew it was to take the kid somewhere to run around, wear him down, and he wondered if they all breathed a sigh of relief every time it happened because Peter was equally interested in what  _everybody_ on board was doing at all times. There wasn't a Ravager on the Elector he wouldn't pester at this point. 

Kraglin caught up to them, ran into them was more like it, and Yondu felt Peter growing impatient as they stopped to talk. Peter tugged on his arm, played with the sleeve of his jacket, fidgeted, and finally started pushing the captain, leaning his upper body against his backside. Kraglin watched it all go down as Yondu spoke, his brows furrowing slightly at the sight. 

"So I'm takin' the little shit to-" Yondu said and then grabbed Peter by the wrist and jerked him around to his front side. "What are you doin', Boy? Why you keep pushin' and leanin' on my bun-buns?!"

Peter laughed and repeated, "Bun buns!"

Kraglin half smiled at that and shook his head. Yondu finally picked Peter up, a brief thought in the back of his mind that the boy should eat more because he was so light, and finished what he was saying.

"So I'm leavin' Rhex in charge of things," he said. "Takin' this one to that nearby world...wassit called...?"

"Jahndra," Peter chimed in.

"Yeah, Jahndra," Yondu said and then scoffed, setting Peter back down. "I ain't fixin' to hold you like a baby."

Peter hardly seemed hurt by that and pulled his Walkman out, rewinding it for the upcoming adventure. He then tried to check Kraglin's pockets for gum, but Kraglin casually blocked his advances with his palm, pressed firmly on Peter's forehead.

"You wanna come?" Yondu asked him. 

"There's a lot I need to work on here," Kraglin said, grabbing Peter's nose without even looking at him. 

"I been needin' to get away for a day or two anyway," Yondu said. "Thinkin' about holin' up in a hotel. Kickin' back on a clean bed, fresh sheets."

"We're gonna stay in a hotel?" Peter stopped and stared up at Yondu. 

Kraglin raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Well," he said. "Don't that sound fancy. Maybe I will go after all."

"Will it have a pool?" Peter asked excitedly. 

\----------

Yondu groaned and grunted all the way to one of the smaller space vehicles on board, but something inside of him felt...it was odd, really. He was kind of excited to be going somewhere-even if it was just a jump away, with Kraglin and Peter, alone, even if the kid did drive him up the walls sometimes. 

\-------

Jahndra was a hot tourist trap of a planet, tiny too, and they settled on the province of Declan, a little coastal area with very few people. The bar selection wasn't great, but it would do. The no-name town they decided to stay the night in only had two hotels and they were really more like motels. Peter didn't seem to mind. The second they were scanned into the room, he ran and flipped onto the bed, bouncing slightly to test its spring capability should he decide to jump on it later, which he most certainly would. 

"Get them dirty boots off that bed, Boy," Yondu barked at him. 

Peter complied without complaint and started messing with everything in the room. He then ran to the bathroom and they heard him turn on the sink and the shower. 

"There's only one bed," Kraglin said in a low voice, giving him a knowing look.

Yondu nodded. 

"We'll make the kid sleep on the floor," he said, frowing at a stain on one of the baseboards. "All those critters that are prolly runnin' around 'ill keep 'im cozy."

He grinned at his own joke, but grew serious when he saw that Kraglin wasn't laughing with him. It was something else that had been on his mind along with his constant wishy-washy thoughts about Peter and Ego. 

Most of the crew knew about the relationship between Yondu and Kraglin, he assumed. They didn't really try and hide it, but they also didn't call attention to it either. Besides, Ravagers fucked one another all the time. The only difference with him and Kraglin was they  _only_ fucked each other. Yondu was already having an inner crisis about his feelings for Peter. He most certainly didn't have time to sort out the shit going on between him and his first mate.

The current issue was that they weren't sure if Peter knew about them or not. The boy had never asked about it or even mentioned it. Eventually, he would, they assumed, but now in this room with one bed. A silent question fell between them as Peter walked back out of the bathroom.

Was now a good opportunity to explain to him the nature of their relationship?

Peter went to look out the window, staring up at the blue sunset and the three moons starting to show in the evening sky. 

"I wanna go swimming," he said. 

\-------

Yondu had not been swimming in who even knows how long, unless he counted swimming for his life, which he didn't. He didn't even own a pair of swim trunks, so he had to make due in some old pants. Peter owned a pair from a vendor who thought he was precious and had given them a whole paper parcel full of child sized clothing. He had everything from swimwear to ski gear, thanks to people who thought he was as cute as a button. 

"It's cold," Peter said, dipping a toe into the water. "Like really cold."

"You wanted to swim," Yondu told him. "Jump in. You swim in everything else."

Kraglin simply walked by the boy, towel over his shoulder, shoving him in. Peter came up sputtering and shooting water out of his nose. He frowned and said, "That's not funny."

Yondu and Kraglin were too busy laughing to feel sorry for him. They all ended up swimming in the water that really was too cold. Peter's lips were blue and he shivered every time he stopped physically swimming. 

When it finally became too cold to bear, the three of them went back inside, where the room was equally cold. Yondu roughly towel-dried Peter's hair and said, "You need a hot shower."

They all needed a hot shower and that's what they did. After that, they redressed and walked the short distance from the motel to the nearest bar and grill, a run down place that was more bar than grill. Peter watched some men watching a game on the vision screens and watched Yondu and Kraglin take drinks of their alcoholic beverages. Yondu winked at him, sliding his beer over and Peter took a sip. 

It was sort of cozy almost, being at the bar in a dark, smokey place where nobody knew them, Yondu thought. Kraglin with him. Peter with him. Peter was currently going to town on some fried kinos, little round starchy roots that were often served as hangover food. 

"These taste like French Fries," he remarked, popping another one into his mouth. "Only better. I wish they had Ketchup."

"French Fries?" Yondu repeated, though it sounded more like a statement. He took a sip of his beer. "What are those?"

"Potatoes," Peter said, reaching over to try and take Yondu's bottle for another sip, but Yondu pulled it just out of reach.

"Try this," Kraglin said, taking one of Peter's kinos and popping it into his mouth. He took a small bottle of bright orange sauce and drizzled it all over the kino basket. 

Peter tried one and then took the bottle to pour globs and globs of it over his food. Yondu and Kraglin's order arrived, thick cuts of meat, real food, not that bird feed Peter lived off of, and he immediately wanted some of theirs. 

"Lemme look at you," Yondu said, turning sideways on his bar stool, raising Peter's shirt up slightly. "You gettin' skinnier? Boy, look at the waist band on your pants."

He looked at Kraglin. 

"You see how skinny this kid is?" He asked him.

Kraglin nodded, reaching over to brush his fingers over some of Peter's slightly exposed ribs.

"Kraglin's skinny," Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, well Krags is built like that," Yondu said. "You weren't this skinny two weeks ago. Wass wrong with you?"

Peter shrugged, taking a drink of his soda. He stole a piece of Yondu's steak and said, "I eat a lot. Torra said he's gonna have to start locking some of the non perishables up because I'll eat everything if he doesn't."

\----------

When they got back to the motel, Yondu took a hold of Peter and pulled his shirt over his head. Something was definitely wrong. Peter was losing a lot of weight. How had he not noticed while they were swimming or showering?

Throwing his tooth pick off to the side, Kraglin said, " 'mere, Quill."

Peter walked over to Kraglin who turned him around, checking him over. He looked at Yondu and said, "I think he might have a parasite. Look."

Yondu walked over and sure enough, there was a purple bruising near his kidney- a dark red and black mark in the middle. Terrans had a very weak constitution, they knew. It was said around the galaxy that they could even die from a simple flu and they broke bones more easily than other species.

"Well," Yondu said with a sigh. "Ain't nothin' we can do about it tonight. We'll find a cheap clinic on the way out."

Peter put his shirt back on and the three of them climbed onto the bed. Peter laid down in between them, but they remained sitting. 

"Are we all sleeping here?" He asked, his voice already drifting.

"There's only one bed, ain't there?" Yondu asked him, patting Peter on the leg to remind him to remove his boots. 

Peter sat up groggily and did so. 

"Be careful," Yondu told him as Peter rolled onto his stomach. "Kraglin bites."

Kraglin clicked his teeth together, looking bored and Peter grinned sleepily. Yondu patted his head and said, "Shut them peepers, Kid. Had enough of you today."

\-----------

It was only a few hours later when Kraglin sat up, clicking on the lamp beside the bed.

"What?" Yondu grunted, also sitting up.

"Kid peed or somethin'," Kraglin said. "It's all wet and warm over here."

Yondu frowned. "You serious?"

He smacked Peter lightly. "Hey!"

Peter didn't move. 

"Quill!" Yondu whistled at him. 

Frowning, he rolled Peter over. The boy's eyes were open slightly, glassy looking, and there was blood coming out of his mouth, all over the front of his under shirt and pooled around him on the sheets. 

 

To Be Continued...

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please forgive my short chapters and spelling and grammar as I'm writing this on a phone and it's a nightmare and a pain. I actually have a huge favor to ask all of you. I am running on fumes at this point, so any ideas you have, please shoot them my way, spread the word on tumblr and what not. I would love to start taking ideas as prompts and using them to keep this story going. I love you guys and you're the best and thank you for being patient with me.

Yondu stared into Peter's dead eyes for what seemed like minutes, but could have really been only seconds. The sheets were stained with blood around Peter's head and shoulders, but as Kraglin and Yondu removed themselves from under the covers, they saw it was lower too. Yondu carefully rolled Peter back onto his side and his own blood ran cold. The small bruising with the red mark they'd found earlier was now a gaping wound steadily leaking. Yondu rolled him onto his back again and shook him lightly.

"Quill!" He said, trying to keep his voice steady as he roughly patted Peter's face. 

Kraglin licked his lips quickly before taking two fingers to the boy's neck to check for a pulse. He looked at Yondu and shook his head. Peter was halfway in Yondu's lap and Kraglin jerked him forward by the legs, pulling him off so he was flat on the mattress once more. Yondu, in his state of numbness, was confused as to why Kraglin was suddenly sticking his fingers in Peter's mouth, taking them out and then wiping them on the side of his pajama pants. He quickly began to fall back to reality when Kraglin leaned down and breathed into the boy's mouth, two full breaths, and then started compressions on his chest. He did it for several minutes and Yondu eventually traded off on the compressions part, both of them working together-Yondu trying to jump start the child like a broken vehicle and Kraglin breathing life into him like something inflatable that had a leak.

"C'mon, Boy," Yondu muttered. " 'mon, Pete."

It was music to his ears when a child's cough broke the almost silence in the room. Peter let out a beautiful, gurgling sound followed by hard, heavy coughs and gasping breaths. 

"That's it," Yondu told him, holding the back of his head. "That's it, Peter. Cough, Boy. You got it."

Kraglin wiped his hand across his bloody mouth, partially to get Peter's blood off of of him, but also to hide the half smile creeping onto his face. Peter clutched Yondu's hand, and Yondu felt his heart speed up a little at that. He stared up at Yondu, his eyes still unfocused and dazed, and he started to talk, but could only whimper and let out a few coughing sobs. 

"We need to get 'im to the cruiser now," Yondu said, grabbing his clothes from the floor and dressing quickly.

As soon as he was done, he carefully picked Peter up in his arms and waited for Kraglin to speed dress as well. After they both had their boots on, they ran out of the room and out of the motel to the cruiser parked around back. Yondu didn't want to let Peter go, but he was a much better driver so he passed him over to Kraglin, reluctantly, and climbed into the pilot seat. 

"There's a hospital two towns over," Kraglin said. "We could make it in ten jumpin' it."

Ten minutes was not a long time, but as Yondu stared at Peter, who was propped up against Kraglin limply, not making a sound other than raspy breathing, it seemed like it would not be enough. 

\--------

The 'hospital' was hardly a hospital. It was more of a medical center or clinic, and as soon as they barreled inside, the clerk at the desk station seemed shock by their presence. She stood up and pressed a call button for medical staff immediately.

"What happened?" She asked, taking in all of the blood on all of their clothes. 

Before they could answer, a tall, lean woman with dark brown skin and bright white cropped hair and amber eyes briskly entered the waiting area along with several nurses. She looked at them and then began ordering her medical staff for several things. One of them brought a hovering gurney in an instant and Yondu almost had a hard time letting go as they loaded Peter onto it. 

The doctor, they assumed, began checking him over right there on the gurney, removing some kind of scanner and waving it around and over his small body. She asked without looking at them, "How long has he been like this?"

"Just since tonight," Kraglin said. "We found a bite or somethin' on him and then this."

"Wass wrong with 'im?" Yondu wanted to know, wishing he was more knowledgeable of what these medical workers were doing with all of their poking and prodding and recording things onto reader devices.

"He needs to be taken in for immediate observation," the doctor told one of them. "Call Dr. Krome immediately and tell him it's a Code Eleven."

They whisked Peter away and Yondu started to follow them, but the doctor blocked his path.

"I'm Dr. Lang," she finally introduced herself without offering her hand. "I run this medical center, but I promise you we are not equipped to handle something like this. We will have to transfer him to an emergency center."

"What happened to him?" Yondu asked, trying to keep the fear and annoyance out of his voice. "Can you fix 'im?"

"What species is he?" Dr. Lang asked, cocking her head slighty as she retrieved her own reader device.

"He's Terran," Yondu said with a weak shrug.

Dr. Lang looked up and raised her eyebrows at him.

"You know..." Yondu shrugged again. "Just a lil' helpless Terran child."

Dr. Lang nodded and said, "Well...according to research, not much is known about Terran biology. They don't branch out much so we're not sure how his body will handle treatment for this sort of thing. A parasite or fungus most likely. Judging by the mark on the bruised area, I'm guessing a parasite."

"That there's a tough kid," Yondu told her, pointing in the direction they'd taken Peter away. "He can fight this thing. I promise you he can."

Dr. Lang began asking questions about Peter, which both Yondu and Kraglin (judging by the raising and lowering of his eyebrows) were surprised that Yondu knew so much about him. Peter was nine and a half. Peter was allergic to certain berries. Peter never got sick. 

"Dr. Lang?" One of the workers returned. "He's stable and ready for transport."

\-------

Yondu and Kraglin had to make three jumps to the Tetch medical crisis center where Peter had been taken by a medic cruiser. Yondu was really beginning to grow uneasy then because when they arrived, several doctors wanted to talk to them, all at once, asking all kinds of questions about Peter. Terrans were rare in space, but couldn't be that interesting. Could they?

"Leave them be," a large, gray man said, making his way through the crowd of doctors. 

To Yondu and Kraglin he explained, "doctors in training. I'm Dr. Krome."

"How's the kid?" Yondu asked him, not caring a bit what his name was. 

"The Terran, yes," Dr. Krome said, taking out a reader device and scrolling through it. "You're sure he's Terran? Full Terran?"

Yondu and Kraglin exchanged looks and decided not to answer him. Dr. Krome simply nodded and continued.

"It is a parasite. Dr. Lang was correct about that. A Voris parasite, to be exact."

"A Voris parasite?" Yondu repeated, brows furrowing. "That don't sound right. I used to get those all the time when I was a kid. Most of the time you just take a knife and gut 'em outta ya'."

Dr. Krome nodded again.

"Terran biology is different," he explained. "They can barely handle parasites from Earth, so one from another world can really take a toll on their body. The Terran child has probably had this parasite for a few weeks now. It seems to have no difficulties feeding on his blood and whatever he eats and it looks like it just made a home deeper inside, possibly severing an artery."

"Why?" Kraglin asked, frowning.

"Have you traveled anywhere cold lately?" The doctor asked. "They hate cold and would try and go deeper into the body to keep warm."

Yondu felt his heart sink. Peter had complained about the pool being too cold. The water had been too cold, even for two grown men. He felt terrible suddenly realizing that as they were swimming, that nasty little thing was killing Peter. 

"In any case," Dr. Krome continued. "We're going to perform a small surgery to remove it, but first we have to perform a detox because the Voris does release poison. For most of us, that just means a rash or a fever, but for a Terran, it means a bodily shut down."

He frowned slightly, adjusting his spectacles and asked, "And you're sure he's Terran? Full Terran?"

"Why?" Yondu asked, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. He hated how calm and collected this doctor sounded, talking about Peter's looming death like it was the weather.

"To be honest," Dr. Krome said with a sigh. "This should have killed him. This Terran has lost an enormous amount of blood and has probably gone without oxygen for at least several minutes, if not longer."

With that, he turned and left Yondu and Kraglin to sit there in the hustle and bustle of several hundred other emergencies going on. There was nothing they could do at this point but wait. There were two things Yondu hated-waiting and being rushed, and Peter always seemed to be making him do one or the other. 

\--------

It was nearly three hours later when Dr. Lang, surprisingly, came to Yondu and Kraglin who were slumped down in the waiting area chairs. She was smiling and perched in the chair beside Yondu as he sat up, fully alert now as she began to speak.

"Your Terran came through surgery beautifully," she said. "We removed the Voris after the detox. He did lose a lot of blood, and a transfusion wasn't really going to be easy with his... _make up_. We feel that there are certain species that will be a close enough match. All we'd have to do is run some lab samples first. Until then, he's on a temporary substitute that we'll have to flush immediately before an actual transfusion. It sort of tricks the body into believing it's blood but it won't act as blood through a full cycle."

"So he needs blood?" Yondu asked. "Can you test mine?"

Dr. Lang smiled kind of sadly and said, "I'm afraid you wouldn't be close enough in a biological make up, but we have several donors round the clock and we're getting ready to test the blood now."

"What 'bout mine?" Kraglin asked, sitting up a little straighter. 

Yondu looked at him and Kraglin shrugged slightly. 

Dr. Lang opened her mouth and then closed it again, her face deep in concentration. She finally nodded and said, "I think you might actually stand a chance as a match. Could you follow me back to the lab so we can run some tests? Give me a little genetic history? Family illnesses? That sort of thing?"

Kraglin stood up an so did Yondu. Dr. Lang looked at Yondu apologetically and said, "I'm afraid only potential donors are allowed in the blood work area." 

Yondu nodded, shuffling his feet, hands on his hips, looking around. Dr. Lang turned to speak to a passing nurse, giving her Peter's information and as she did so, Kraglin dared to take Yondu's hand and squeeze it gently. It lasted all of three seconds and he released it quickly. As he walked off with Dr. Lang, he turned and gave Yondu a two-fingered salute from his forehead. 

\-----------

The transfusion was successful. Kraglin and Dr. Lang returned to Yondu who had been pacing nonstop. Kraglin was sipping some sugary juice, his left arm bandaged just above the inside of his elbow. He smiled kind of shyly at Yondu, who could only smile gently back in appreciation, though he knew he could never truly express how grateful he was. Two more hours passed before they could finally go and see Peter. 

"I'll contact Rhex," Kraglin said, scratching his nose. "Let him know somethin' came up. You go see the kid."

Yondu nodded and followed a short, squatty nurse up an elevator and down a long corridor marked with colorful lights on the walls and floor, photographs of alien children everywhere. It was the children's ward. 

"He's resting now," the nurse said as she held a door open for him to one of the rooms. 

Peter was naturally a small, skinny child, but in the hospital bed, attached to several tubes and machines, he looked tiny. His eyes were closed and there was an oxygen mask over his mouth. The nurse left him alone and Yondu pulled up a chair to sit beside the metal bed. Peter did not stir. Yondu reached out to finger some of his reddish brown hair, which was thicker and longer on the top than on the sides-a common Ravager style. 

Yondu petted him then, looking around the small, dimly lit room as he did so. Near the bed was a reader built into the bedside table. He glanced at it, sliding his hand across the screen. It was Peter's information. His date of birth (which Yondu had provided). His height (which Yondu had provided). His medical history (which Yondu had provided-to the best of his ability). Nothing seemed particularly interesting. Just the shape he'd been in when he arrived, which seemed so tame on a screen in printed words compared to what it had looked and felt like, and the procedures done to make him better. 

Yondu stopped scrolling when he came across a section simply titled 'Doctor's notes'.

_Patient is listed as Terran, but I feel like there might be something more in his biological makeup as it is weak, but there is a certain regeneration/healing factor_

_No medical family history. Patient appears to be a Ravager slave_

Those words made Yondu almost sick. Slavery was still a common practice in several rougher corners of the galaxy, legal in many too though many worlds considered it barbaric. These doctors, these people that were supposed to care about others, thought Yondu and Kraglin had simply brought a slave child to them. A child that they probably assumed was worth anything because he was a rare species out in space travel. They had not referred to him once as 'Peter', only 'the child' or 'the Terran' even though Yondu had provided them his full name. 

\------------

Kraglin, bless him, was able to convince the others that they had found a promising job out there and were scoping it out. Nobody except for Taserface even seemed to question it, but Taserface was neurotic and was always convinced that all kinds of treacherous, secret things were going on that he insisted on knowing about. Yondu and Kraglin spent most of their time hanging around the medical crisis center, waiting for Peter to recover. 

When Peter first woke up, he'd made a great big fuss, tearing at the needles and tubes attached to him and thrashing around. Yondu had been on the way when he heard that familiar shrieking and he'd picked up the pace and walked quickly down the corridor and into the room, part of him relieved and loving that terrible, joyful noise. 

"Calm down!" A nurse told Peter, ducking as he took a swing at her. 

"Get away from me!" Peter cried. "Don't touch me!"

When the nurse saw Yondu casually standing in the doorway, she shot him a semi-dirty look because he hadn't helped her. Peter saw Yondu and relaxed slightly, still standing on his knees on the bed. 

"I got it, Sugar Pop," Yondu told the nurse, dismissing her.

She frowned at him and left. Yondu walked into the room and waved to Peter, gesturing for him to sit down on the bed. Peter did not. 

"Boy, sit'cher ass down," he said."You're alright. Better than alright in fact."

"Where am I?" Peter asked, wincing as he jerked another needle from his arm. 

"Yer in the hospital," Yondu said, moving to the side of the bed. He tossed what he'd gone to retrieve onto the think blanket. That damned Walkman. 

Peter sat down, his shoulders slumping slightly. 

"Voris bug got you good," Yondu told him, sitting down in the chair that he'd come to consider his new home. He also retrieved an apple from his coat pocket and handed it to Peter who held it in two hands, still looking around. 

The boy still looked rough. His eyes still had a glassy look to them and there were dark bruises underneath from the effects of the detox which had made him purge violently, even in a state of unconsciousness. Yondu couldn't help but reach over and ruffle his hair, which was in need of a good washing. 

"Why didn't you tell me anything was wrong?" Yondu asked, kicking back in the chair. 

Peter shrugged.

"It just sort of itched and burned," he said. "And Joss told me it was probably a Voris bite and there was nothing to worry about."

"For a Krix like Joss maybe," Yondu replied. "For a lil' pipsqueak of a Terran like you, it's different."

Peter set the apple down beside him and laid on his side, staring at Yondu through the bars of the bed. 

"I think I died," he said quietly. "Do you think you can die and come back?"

"What'chu mean?" Yondu asked, hating that his tough persona was fading and he actually sounded sincere. 

Peter stared into space for several seconds before saying, "I remember waking up and my back hurting real bad. And I felt blood coming out of it, but there was so much of it, I thought I was dreaming. And then I heard your song."

"My song?" Yondu frowned. 

"No." Peter shook his head. " _Your Song_. It's a song by Elton John. My mom sang it to me when she got sick. It's the only song I don't have on my mix." 

He suddenly remembered the Walkman and pulled it closer to him. 

"I only heard it one time, but in my dream it sounded like I heard it a lot. It was like my mom was there," he said, his voice growing small. "But she's not here."

"No, she ain't," Yondu agreed, nodding a little.

Peter bit his bottom lip in an effort not to cry, but a few tears slid down his cheeks. Yondu used his feet to scrape the chair across the floor closer to the bed and rubbed Peter's hair again, this time slow and sympathetic, not playful at all.

"I'm here though," he said, running his fingers through the long and short hair, his fingers grazing over the ear piece of the translator chip. "I ain't goin' anywhere."

Peter nodded, letting out a long, shuddering sigh and said in the smallest voice Yondu had ever heard, "Okay."

\---------

Peter had to recover for a few more days and the last night of their stay, Kraglin waited patiently for Yondu to go on and on about Peter's ever-rising health before running a hand awkwardly through his hair. 

"Um, yeah, so the boys got a call," he said, his big blue eyes worried. "From...Ego..."

"Ego?!" Yondu frowned. "The hell? How'd he even-"

"I don't know." Kraglin held up his hands and shook his head. "Nobody knows. I know we thought we lost him and all. I mean, I figgered he'd lost interest to be honest, but he's askin' about Quill again."

"He ain't never gettin' his hands on that boy," Yondu said simply, face hard, jaw stiff. "He ain't."

Kraglin nodded and said, "Technically kid's ours now anyway, right?"

He dared to grin a little and said, "I mean, he's got my blood after all."

Yondu stared at him as if to say 'did you really just make that joke' and Kraglin laughed a little in an embarrassed way and Yondu laughed too and then they both started to crack up even though it was pretty cheesy and not even that funny. 

"I wanna, you know, thank you," Yondu said after they settled down, clearing his throat. "Fer bein' so patient with me 'bout all this. The kid...and...everything else."

He hoped that Kraglin wouldn't ask him to clarify what 'everything else' was, and luckily, his first mate didn't. He simply nodded and shuffled his feet. Yondu looked around and sighed.

"Aw, hell with it," he said before leaning in and kissing Kraglin. The first time he'd ever kissed him anywhere with other people around. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I am so glad you guys enjoy this story because it has not been easy to write, but when I go back and reread earlier chapters, I can see my progress (along with a lot of advice from my readers which helps a lot). I apologize for the spelling and grammar, I know I always apologize for it. I'm not lazy or anything. It's just harder to correct when typing on a phone. I also apologize for any poor characterization. I can't actually blame that on the phone. That's just me.  
> Anyway, we're getting to the tail end of nine year old Peter, soon to be in the double digits and then tween and teen years which I know some of you have been asking about. Just be patient with me.   
> And as always, I appreciate the kudos and comments and I respond to every comment, just bear with me because even if I don't respond for a couple of days, I will.   
> Thanks again, you guys!

The Ravagers were getting anxious hanging around in one spot. They were suspicious of Yondu and Kraglin's absence. Kraglin's lie about finding a potential job was wearing thin, and Peter...

Peter was not doing well in his recovery, which was not good for so many reasons.

"No!" Peter shook his head, slamming his hands down on the thin hospital bed mattress.

One of the nurses sighed, exasperated, and set the bowl of soup down on the fold out tray beside the bed. Peter stared at her, challenging her to do further than to tell him he _has_ to eat. She ran a hand through her black tentacles which were pulled up into a ponytail and glanced at Dr. Krome, who had remained Peter's physician throughout his ordeal.

"Your body needs nourishment," Dr. Krome said. "You'll never get better if you don't eat."

Yondu entered the room just in time to see Peter knock the bowl out of the nurse's hand as she tried to bring it close to him again, soup flying all over the place, spattering on her neat uniform and his hospital tunic and cotton pants.

"Hey!" Yondu called to him harshly, making the boy jump.

"He won't eat," the nurse told Yondu, collecting the bowl from the floor. "He's going to dehydrate if he doesn't eat."

Yondu had left Peter alone for three days to return to Elector and settle the crew down. He had left Kraglin and Peter behind so it seemed plausible that somebody would be around to keep an eye on the made up job. Kraglin had actually been gone too, actually scouting for jobs no matter how small, so there could be something tangible upon their return.

"He hasn't eaten?" Yondu asked, brows furrowing. "Anything?"

Dr. Krome shook his head, pulling out his trusty reader device. Yondu was so tired of those reader devices. He longed to take it out of the doctor's hand and chuck it across the room. As far as the entire medical staff was concerned, Peter was that damned device, not the child in the bed.

"The transfusion weakened him quite a bit," the doctor said. "His body is still getting used to the new blood and expelling the blood substitute so he's been vomiting frequently."

"So he needs to eat," the nurse said, frowning at Peter, who suddenly looked sheepish and not so defiant now that Yondu was in the room.

"Bring 'im another bowl of soup," Yondu said, looking at Peter.

The nurse rolled her eyes and walked away. Dr. Krome blabbed on about Peter's progress in a mechanical fashion and Yondu picked up only the important parts. When the doctor left, Yondu sat in the chair beside the bed.

"Wuss all this 'bout you not eatin'?" He asked. "Hm?"

Peter gripped the thin hospital blanket in his fists, scowling pitifully. He looked pitiful all around-thin, dark bruises under his eyes, matted hair, engulfed in oversized hospital sweats.

"I just keep throwing it back up," Peter said, his voice cracking slightly. "And it hurts when I throw up."

"That's yer body tryin' to get back on track," Yondu told him. "You gotta give it a few tries."

The nurse returned with another bowl of soup, this time handing it over to Yondu, smirking at Peter with her eyes. She lingered in the room briefly, finding imaginary chores to do, but Yondu wasn't stupid. She was hoping to hang around and see what would happen when Peter threw a fit with Yondu. He waited patiently for her to leave. She eventually ran out of things to pretend to do and stalked out of the room.

Yondu stirred the soup and then handed the bowl to Peter, who frowned at it like it was a bowl full of motor oil he'd just been told to eat.

"Eat," Yondu told him. "It's gonna taste even worse when it gets cold."

Peter hesitated, but he knew this was it. He could get away with some things when it came to Yondu, but he knew he wasn't going to get away with this. He took a very small serving in in his spoon and put it in his mouth. Yondu nodded at him and he did it again, and again, and again. He was on his seventh bite when he put the bowl down and without any warning, jumped out of the bed and clumsily ran to the attached bathroom where he began puking loudly in the toilet. Yondu followed him inside.

Every time he stopped retching, Peter shuddered in pain, sweat dripping from his forehead. He cried out in pain briefly before dry heaving, nothing coming out of him but a small amount of spit. Yondu rubbed his back sympathetically. 

There was a small stack of disposable cups near the sink and he took one and filled it with water, handing it to Peter when the boy finally became silent aside from heavy breathing and involuntary whimpers. Peter shook his head at the water and Yondu didn't force it on him this time.

Without being told, Peter sluggishly moved back to the bed and climbed on, collapsing onto his side. Yondu sat back down in the chair and sighed. If Peter didn't get better soon, the crew would become riled up. Ego might find them. Peter might not recover at all. So many bad thoughts swirled in Yondu's head and all he could do was stare at Peter, who curled into a little ball, clutching his thin pillow.

"You gotta eat, Boy," Yondu told him. "That's all there is to it. That's all she wrote."

Peter said nothing, just blinked heavily.

"If you could eat anything, _anything_ in the galaxy," Yondu said, leaning forward. "What would it be?"

Peter raised his eyes to meet Yondu's without moving his head. He then looked away, giving it some thought.

"A chocolate shake," he finally said.

"A what?" Yondu frowned.

"A milkshake," Peter said, which still didn't help. "Chocolate."

\-------

"A chocolate milkshake?" Kraglin repeated, scratching his head.

"Who even knows what in the hell it is," Yondu said with a sigh as he sat on the motel bed. He never wanted to stay in a motel again as long as he lived. "But if he'll eat it..."

So their strangest quest yet began-to find a chocolate milkshake in the galaxy. Kraglin began researching it and reassured Yondu that it wasn't actually all that complicated to find as it was very similar to dessert beverages all over.

"That's just a Terran word for it," he explained, shutting off his device. " 'Shake'."

" 'Shake'." Yondu frowned as he tried out the word, now knowing exactly what it was. "Don't make no sense."

"Nope," Kraglin agreed, shaking his head.

Kraglin called up a nearby dessert shop and explained what a milkshake was. The girl on the other end up the call was confused at first, but said it would not be hard to make and told him she would have one ready in the next hour. Kraglin and Yondu took the cruiser to pick it up and when they got there, a cheerful pink young woman with about five pounds of blonde curly hair passed over a large paper cup with a fat straw.

"It was kind of fun to make," she said. "We might actually start selling them."

\-------

When Yondu returned to the hospital room, this time with Kraglin, Peter looked up at them, moving into a sitting position and removed the headphones from his ears. Yondu carefully pulled the large cup from a brown paper bag. Peter frowned slightly.

"What are you doing?" The cranky nurse from before demanded, entering the room with some bread, nuts, and fruit in a sectioned container.

"Got'chu a genuine chocolate milkshake," Yondu said, handing the cup to Peter.

Peter's eyes seemed to light up even though they were bruised and the corner of one side of his mouth went up too. He took the cup with both hands and repositioned himself to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"Are you crazy?" The nurse barked. "You can't give him food from just anywhere! He could have a reaction. He's supposed to be eating very nutrient-rich, but light food to help in his recovery-"

"And you fed 'im soup," Yondu barked back. "You fed 'im this and that and it won't stay down. At least now we'll know we tried everything."

Kraglin nodded, giving the nurse a kind of 'ha-ha' look, though he tried to be cool about it. The nurse squinted in disgust and shook her head. She crossed her arms and joined them as they all watched Peter take his first sip. He swallowed, waited, and took another, and another. After a few minutes, he ran to the bathroom to throw up again, but when he returned, he continued to drink the milkshake. When the cup was empty, he didn't throw up again.

"Good boy!" Yondu boomed, patting him on the back.

The nurse left to go fetch Dr. Krome, who typed all of this into his reader.

\----------

Kraglin ended up finding them a job. A poorly guarded storage facility filled with military grade weapons and supplies. The Ravagers were happy to take it, and they stopped voicing suspicions of Yondu, Kraglin, and Peter's long absence.

Peter made a full recovery, and once back on the ship, he was his normal, bratty self once again. The Ravagers were beginning to regret harassing the captain and his first mate so much about getting back because they didn't realize how nice Peter's absence was until his return. He pestered them all, always wanting to know what they were up to and insisting on helping in whatever they were doing.

\-------

"You called me in here?" Peter asked, walking into Yondu's cabin, already in his t-shirt and cotton pants for the night cycle. He closed the door behind himself and added, "You never call me in here."

"Ain't you a lucky duck," Yondu said casually, pointing to the chair that Peter loved to spin around in. The chair Kraglin had picked lice out of his hair.

Peter sat in it and Yondu snapped his fingers.

"Take off your shirt," he said.

Peter did so without question. Yondu carefully observed the spot where that damned Voris parasite had burrowed in, done all the damage and created a gaping wound that had almost bled the boy out. The same spot surgeons had gone in to remove it, neutralize the poison, and stitch him back together. It seemed to be healing well, but Yondu didn't trust Peter to keep the area clean like he'd been instructed.

He began to doctor Peter up, carefully cleaning around the incision while Peter fidgeted, bored, swinging his feet. Yondu had to grab him firmly by the shoulder to signal him to sit still.

Kraglin came out of the bathroom, flossing his teeth, and playfully rolled his eyes at Peter.

"This look good to you?" Yondu asked, moving over so Kraglin could judge the captain's handiwork for himself.

"Looks great." Kraglin agreed, and he almost leaned in to peck Yondu on the lips, but stopped suddenly, remembering they were not alone.

Peter put his shirt back on and hopped out of the chair.

"When am I gonna learn how to fly a ship?" He asked.

"When you turn double digits," Yondu replied simply. "Go to bed."

Peter ignored him and began jumping on the bed in the room.

"I'll be ten in five months," he said. "Then you'll teach me how to fly?"

"If you got a lick of sense you'll go to bed or you ain't ever gonna fly 'cept when I throw you out _this_ ship," Yondu said. "Stop jumpin' on my bed, Boy!"

Peter stopped and started wandering around the room looking for something to grab. He had the busiest hands in the galaxy, Yondu thought.

"Peter!" Kraglin said sharply.

Peter looked at them and got the message. He went to the door, dragging his feet, a little dramatically and turned around one more time.

"You really promise that when I turn ten you'll teach me to fly?" He asked, gripping the handle of the door.

"Yes," Yondu said.

\---------

Ego called again. Kraglin discretely came and fetched Yondu, not wanting any of the other men to know what a problem this was.

"Ego," he said, staring at the cheerful face on the screen.

Ego laughed in a jovial way.

"I thought you might have disappeared!" He said. "I had a hard time finding you. What happened to Peter? Where is he?"

Kraglin shifted his eyes at Yondu, wondering if the captain was going to try and lie his way out of this or simply tell Ego to go fuck himself. With Yondu, it was fifty-fifty either way.

"Where's the rest of 'em?" Yondu asked cooly.

"The rest of what?" Ego asked. "The other children? They're here! They've been waiting to meet their brother!"

"Bull!" Yondu lost his composure. "There ain't never been one child there since you contacted me. I don't ever hear no kids runnin' around, see any in the background. Just you and that empty planet! What happened to 'em?"

He banged his fist on the console board at the end of his sentence which made Kraglin flinch a little. He watched, along with Yondu, as Ego's cheerful, in place smile wilted into a hard frown.

"I need that child," he said, no longer cheerful. His voice was cold, his emphasis on 'child' empty.

"What for?" Yondu asked angrily.

"I didn't spread my seed to make a family," Ego explained in annoyingly calm way. "I did to save myself. Without a connection to the light-my essence-I'll die. It's sort of like a vessel-a battery is a better example."

He smiled a little then, which made Yondu's blood run cold.

"None of them could do it," he said, shaking his head a little with a short, breathy laugh. "None of my offspring have been able to connect with me in a way I need to go on. You're not the only one working for me, Yondu."

"I don't work for you," Yondu almost growled.

"I've sent out a message throughout the galaxy to be on the lookout for a Terran child," Ego continued, ignoring him. "A doctor recently contacted me that a Terran child with an almost healing factor came through his surgery."

Dr. Krome. That son of a bitch, Yondu thought.

"Told me two Ravagers brought the child in, said he was Terran," Ego said, raising an eyebrow, smirking a little like Yondu had got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You killed the others," Yondu said darkly. "Yer own flesh and blood children. Helpless children that can't do nothin' to defend themselves."

"Children _you_ brought to me," Ego pointed out, wagging a finger over the communication screen. He shook his head and said, "And don't worry, it's not like I brought them up to the chopping block one by one or used a firing squad."

"How?" Kraglin asked, giving Yondu a sudden apologetic look for speaking up.

Yondu didn't seem to mind, or if he did, he didn't show it.

"I simply made it to where they went to sleep and never woke up," Ego said. "The way most people want to die anyway. Be reasonable, Yondu, if they aren't of any use to me, I can't keep them. There are far too many!"

He grinned and said, "But Peter! If Peter really and truly can connect to the light, can help me stay alive, I will raise him. Raise him right. He'll want for nothing."

"And if he's like the rest," Yondu said bitterly. "You'll tuck him in, tell 'im 'sweet dreams' and then get him a purdy lil' coffin, huh?"

Ego was still smiling but his eyes were cold. They were suspicious, and Yondu suddenly realized how much worse that was, the suspicion.

"You know," he said, still eerily calm and collected. "I hired you-a ravager- for this job because ravagers aren't attached emotionally. You think of money, stealing, drinking. Most ravagers don't have families. They don't believe in romance or love. It's all about money and power."

Yondu fought the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat. It was as if Ego had just pinned his wings to the board and was preparing to examine him.

"So why the sudden interest in what happens to these children?" Ego asked. " _My_ children? You get your money either way. What does it matter?"

His voice was suddenly icy as he asked, "Why does Peter matter?"

There it was. Somebody forcing Yondu to answer the question he'd been silently asking himself for over a year. Why did Peter matter? Peter had once been cargo. He was more trouble than he was worth. He was good for stealing once in a while, but overall, he was completely helpless. He depended on the adults around him to protect him, to care for him...he depended on Yondu.

"You're not actually telling me you've gotten attached to a Terran child!" Ego almost scoffed.

_Don't leave me, Yondu_. The words echoed in his head. _Don't leave me._

_I ain't goin' anywhere  
_

"You ain't ever gettin' him as long as he's in my care," Yondu said simply, disconnecting the transmission. 

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his heart beating fast. He stood up from the chair and sighed, placing his hands on his hips. Kraglin stared at him.

"Go on!" Yondu said. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You ain't wrong," Kraglin said simply.

\-----------

Yondu tossed and turned in bed, sitting up frequently, sighing in frustration at how pathetic it was for him to be scared of Ego. Ego was chump. Ego was a lying shit pile. He had no reason to be scared.

He couldn't even convince him of that lie. There was a reason, and it was a scrawny, pestering little brat that had some kind of hold on him.

Kraglin sat up too, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He didn't need to ask if the captain was alright. He already knew that he wasn't.

"Damn it to hell!" Yondu snarled, climbing out of bed.

Kraglin blinked sleepily, brows furrowing slightly. He waited for several minutes and was about lay back down when Yondu came back into the room, prodding a half awake Peter inside.

"Why am I in here?" Peter whined groggily. "It's not time to get up."

"No it ain't," Yondu said. "Damned middle of the night is what it is. Get in the bed, Boy."

"Why?" Peter asked, already climbing into the bed.

" 'Cuz I said so!" Yondu barked at him. "Lay your ass down. Go to sleep."

Peter rolled onto his stomach, lying between them, and pretty soon his breathing was slow and deep. Kraglin looked at Yondu.

"You fuckin' serious?" He asked.

Yondu frowned.

Kraglin snorted, shaking his head and Yondu muttered, "Yeah, yeah. Make fun all you want."

They both laid back down and Yondu went to sleep almost immediately this time, not waking up once until his morning cycle alarm sounded.

 

To Be Continued...

 


	10. Chapter 10

Peter laid in his bed in the darkness of his pantry room staring up at the ceiling listening to the noises outside. It was very early, probably not even four am yet, and Peter heard the familiar loud, cheerful voices of the night shift crew. They were cheerful because their shifts were nearly done. Peter rolled onto his side, staring at the heavy door across from his bed which was actually just a middle shelf for storage.

Today he was ten years old. Ravagers did not celebrate birthdays. Peter had learned that when he turned nine years old, but it hadn't bothered him then because everything was still so new and the idea of celebrating his birthday had reminded him of his mother, who'd always made great big fusses over birthdays and holidays. Peter had always had wonderful birthdays that his mother had planned for weeks in advance.

Peter wasn't worried about this birthday either because he was getting something better than any birthday party. He climbed down from the mattress, his bare feet hitting the floor, and pulled his headphones off of his hears and placed his Walkman carefully on bottom shelf. He opened the door to his room and Gray, one of the newer Ravagers on board-newer than Peter anyway- ruffled his hair as he passed with a large piece of machinery.

"Hey there, Shorty!" He teased, showing a large grin of gold teeth.

Peter was in too good of spirits to scowl at the unwanted nickname and simply jogged past him, dodging other Ravagers who called to him either because they assumed he stole something of theirs or hadn't finished his chores. All of that could wait. He traveled to Yondu's cabin and entered the security key on the touch-screen near the door and waited impatiently for the familiar click of the door unlocking. When it did, he could not barrel into the room fast enough.

"I'm ten today!" He announced loudly, scanning the room for any cool new things to mess with. Yondu's cabin was full of great stuff, better than Toys R Us even.

Kraglin, who was lying next to Yondu in the bed, rolled onto his side, placing a pillow over his head. Peter gave Yondu time to wake up, moving around the room picking up some of Yondu's weapons and strange creature trinkets he liked to collect.

"You'll still be ten when I wake up," Yondu said, not even opening his eyes. "Get outta here, Boy."

Peter set one of the trinkets down and said, "You said you'd teach me to fly a cruiser when I turned ten."

"Yer gon' be ten for a whole damn year," Yondu replied, sitting up and scratching under his left pec.

Kraglin sat up too, yawning and stretching, an array of disgusting popping sounds emerging from his joints. Peter left the room and ran to the mess hall where Yondu usually ordered someone to make him coffee. Peter, bouncing up and down impatiently, asked for the captain's coffee from the Ravager on kitchen duty and took two hot thermoses of it back to the cabin, stealing sips from each one.

When he came back into the room, Yondu was in the bathroom, Kraglin sitting up in the bed, hair mussed, staring into space, blinking heavily. Peter climbed onto the bed carefully, sitting on his knees, and offered the first mate one of the thermoses. Kraglin took it without saying thank you and Peter drank from Yondu's, both of them staring at the closed bathroom door.

Yondu came back out, grunting and growling and cursing under his breath the way he did every morning, and Peter handed him the thermos. Yondu only grunted in reply, scratching Peter behind the ear like he was a puppy.

"So we gon' fly today, huh?" He asked.

"Yes!" Peter grinned. "And when I get really good, I want my own ship. Not a cruiser either. An actual ship."

"What're you gon' do with a ship?" Yondu asked, frowning thoughtfully. "Go 'round blastin' yer dance music so everyone has to suffer through it?"

Kraglin snorted softly as he sipped more coffee.

"I don't know what I'll do," Peter answered truthfully. "But I'll have my own ship and that's all I care about."

He watched them finish their coffee, and the second they were done and he ripped the thermoses from their hands and stared at them intently.

"What?" Yondu asked, frowning. "Get out my face. Go."

"Get dressed," Peter ordered. "I want to fly."

"You ain't my cap'n," Yondu told him. "I'm _your_ cap'n,"

\-------

In the end, no wheel squeaked louder than Peter Quill and Yondu was taking him on a cruiser to fly by mid morning. Peter knew how most of the controls in a cruiser vehicle work, having spent so much time in them on various missions and generic travel. Yondu didn't believe in babying or sugar coating things or doing things for others. He'd often seen parents on various worlds 'helping' their children in simple projects like building or painting, placing their hands over their offspring's hand, doing all the work. How was a kid supposed to learn?

Peter shifted excitedly in the driver seat, his eyes all over the control panel. A couple of times, Yondu and some of the other Ravagers had let Peter park a cruiser once they were already close to landing.

"Now," Yondu said. "First thing's first. Don't kill us."

Peter rolled his eyes.

"What'cher gon' do is make sure everything on yer panel looks right. Make sure none of the lights are red-'member red's a-"

"A warning light," Peter finished impatiently. "I know."

"Make sure yer com's workin' too," Yondu said, and when Peter did nothing, he tapped the side of his face. "Go on. Do it."

Peter sighed dramatically and pressed the communication channel button.

"Who do I call?" He ask.

"Call Kraglin," Yondu said.

Peter obediently tuned into Kraglin's communicator and heard a familiar voice ask, "Yeah, Cap'n?"

"It's Peter," Peter said. "Yondu made me call you."

"Makin' sure everything's in order," Yondu specified.

After that Peter had to check about a million other things which he griped about doing, and finally, FINALLY, Yondu was letting him ease out of the ship. Peter thought he was doing just fine, but Yondu continuously barked at him to watch his speed and to look at his control panel and blah blah blah.

It didn't bring down his mood. Peter was beyond excited. Kids his age were celebrating their 0-teen year with parties and balloons. He was flying a space ship. He realized, suddenly, he was the only kid from Terra that had probably flown a space cruiser. He was the only Terran kid that knew there was life away from Terra. He was the only human kid that knew how small planet Earth really was compared to what was out there. The year his mother passed, his science and arithmetic teacher, Mr. Musgrove, had told the class that space travel probably wouldn't happen in their lifetime. Peter was the only one from Earth who knew that space travel did happen, and had been happening for thousands of years, if not more. 

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized it was quiet. Yondu was no longer griping about things. He was simply staring ahead, as Peter had been doing, and seemed to be equally lost in thought.

"I'm a good pilot," Peter said.

Yondu seemed to snap back too.

"You ain't half bad, Kid," he agreed.

\---------

Peter began flying more and more, sometimes with Yondu, sometimes with Kraglin. He also began to do more on missions other than just fit into small places. Yondu began teaching him how to shoot and use weapons. He began to teach him how to fight, and fight dirty. Peter received his very own blaster gun and eventually was assigned to his own cruiser.

His year of being ten seemed to speed by and as it did, he became more and more of a Ravager everyday. Yondu sometimes longed for that innocent Terran part of him, but if Peter was going to survive this ship, this black empty nothingness called the galaxy, that part of him had to go.

Peter crawled into Yondu's bed and messed with Yondu's things less and less. He became more interested in missions and training and flying his cruiser. He was actually so involved in such things that he began to receive equal shares of the loot, as in the Ravager code. It surprised Yondu that he spent very little of his units and mostly squirreled them away.

"I'm saving for my own ship," he explained when Yondu finally asked one day, catching Peter on the floor of his storage room, counting everything he had. He looked up at Yondu, his big green eyes serious.

It warmed Yondu's heart to hear that and awkwardly, he squatted down on the floor next to the ten-year old who was sitting cross-legged, surrounded by all of his units.

"Kid," Yondu reminded him. "You in a ship full of Ravagers. Yer units ain't safe here. Why don't you let me hang onto them in my room. We'll keep 'em locked away in safe. Only you know the code to get in it. You and Kraglin are the only ones allowed in my cabin. Them boys ain't ever gon' set foot in there to go snoopin'."

He thought Peter might be suspicious of the idea, but to his surprise (and satisfaction), Peter agreed to the idea. The next time they went to a trading outpost, Peter picked out his own safe and just as Yondu promised, he did not ask for the code to get inside. Guarding it for Peter was enough.

\---------

It was late. Peter had not returned.

For several months, Yondu had been letting the boy fly from the ships to nearby worlds or posts that required little to no jumps. He had a tracker on Peter's cruiser and had used it religiously in the earlier of months of Peter's solo traveling, but it had tapered off. Peter returned before his curfew and had always gone only as far as he was allowed.

"Where is that boy?" Yondu growled and sighed at the same time as he and Kraglin worked together to repair one of the other cruisers. Yondu normally didn't do hands-on work like that, but he needed to keep busy.

"You ain't checked the tracker?" Kraglin asked, wiping his hands on an oil rag.

"Guess I oughtta," Yondu said, like it was his last resort even though it had been on his mind the second Peter had missed curfew.

He retrieved a device from his coat pocket and logged in some info onto the program that kept tabs on the the particular cruiser vehicle. His brows furrowed.

"He's on Gliv," he said.

Kraglin frowned too.

"It ain't a jump away," he told the captain. "But there ain't nothin' there. Nothin' Quill would like anyway. It's a tourist trap. Bunch of feathered up old ladies 'cept for the Gliv summer. Then it's a bunch of shit-faced teenagers and young adult crowds and..."

He stopped and he and Yondu exchanged glances at the same time. It was summer on Gliv.

\--------

"He's so cute!" One of the pink girls giggled as she kissed Peter's cheek. "I just love him! I wanna take him home!"

Peter grinned, loving the attention from all of these cool older aliens. Not old like Yondu and Kraglin. Probably college age or something, if he were to compare them to Terrans. There were hundreds of them in Ko, a city that was known for having color changing mountains during the summer. The mountains didn't actually change colors, Peter had learned. It was an optical illusion created by the sun and tilt of the planet or something or another.

Fireworks boomed in the dark pink sky and everyone was laughing and whooping and hollering. Peter had only landed because one of his panel lights had turned red and he had been strictly instructed to immediately land and call Yondu if that happened. He couldn't call Yondu, though because the cruiser wouldn't turn on. Now he was surrounded by various young adult aliens and was still trying to get help, but every time he tried to get it, he got swarmed by them, being called cute and getting kissed and having his cheeks pinched.

"I have to go," he told the cluster of females, trying to escape from them.

He found some young adult males, all various species, and they seemed less psychotic than the women, who laughed and squealed and talked in such high pitch voices Peter wondered if some of them might be part dolphin.

"Excuse me?" He asked, tapping one of them, who had brown skin, long black hair, and a build very close to terran.

"Yeah?" The guy asked and looked down at Peter. " 'Sup, Little Buddy?"

He leaned down and Peter had to talk loudly into his ear over the roaring screams and cheers as fireworks started again.

"My cruiser died," Peter said. "I can't contact..."

Contact who? He thought.

In any other situation, he would have said 'my dad' but Yondu wasn't his dad. On the other hand, it would take too long to explain the captain thing and that he was a Ravager. A lot of people didn't like Ravagers. Most people, in fact, didn't like them.

"My dad," he finally said, feeling his cheeks turn red and hot. "I need to get a hold of him."

"Oh, okay!" The guy said, nodding. To one of his friends, he called, "Yo, Gin!"

"Yeah?" A large, orange alien with bumpy skin and eyes that blinked sideways called back, smiling at a girl who clung to him like glue.

"Lost kid!" The guy said, pointing dramatically at Peter. "He says he has a cruiser! Think you can jump it?"

\-------

Peter longed for Yondu as several young men tinkered with his cruiser ship. All he needed was to contact Yondu, but he had no way of doing that until the cruiser worked again. Aliens, as far as he knew, didn't have a phone system. Not Ravagers anyway.

"It's toast, Kid," Gin told him, grinning. "You'll need to do a lot of bodywork to it. It probably got fried during an electric storm. They're pretty faint out here-you hardly even know they hit, but they can murder your transpo."

"What's a little kid like you doin' flyin' a cruiser anyway?" Tag, another one asked. "What are you? Eight?"

"I'm ten," Peter said, frowning. He almost added that he was a Ravager, but he stopped himself.

"We have a whole camp set up," Tag told him. "You can bunk with us if you want to. In the morning, I'll call my dad. He does this for a living."

Peter nodded, feeling these young party animals were not out to hurt him. If they were, they'd have already done it. He rode with them in cheap land vehicles similar to cars on Terra, but in the shape of cubes, back to the camp. It smelled funny and several people were running around either half-clothed or with no clothes.

"What's that smell?" Peter asked, waving his face in front of his hand.

"That's Tosh," Gin told him, inhaling deeply. "It's a grass you smoke-gets you so fuckin' high, Bro."

"Bro, kid's, like, ten," Tag warned, but he laughed too.

"Drugs?" Peter asked, his eyebrows going up.

Some of the girls in the camp immediately flocked over to Peter, gushing over how cute he was and wanting to touch him. Tag offered Peter to share the tent that already had about five stinky young adults inside. Peter knew he couldn't be picky, especially after being on a ship full of smelly Ravagers for a year.

"So what is this?" He asked, shrugging off his maroon jacket and tugging his boots off, grateful for the blanket that was passed his way.

"We're celebrating Saturn," Tag told him. "Saturn is like, the planet."

"Nobody even lives on Saturn," Peter reminded him.

"That's why it's THE planet," a girl said, drinking something glowing blue out of a bottle. "People are so...stupid. They destroy everything. My professor taught me that. He said the universe is better if nobody's in it."

"That's so deep," another girl said and they began kissing.

Peter blinked at them, his brows furrowing slightly and then he shrugged and retrieved his Walkman from his backpack. Everyone around him suddenly wanted to know what it was. Peter explained and then turned the volume up as loud as it would go, holding the headphones out.

"I have something," A guy said. "Hold on."

He retrieved a strange, oval shaped device and touched Peter's Walkman to it. The music suddenly began blasting all over the tent and everyone began to listen.

"This music has, like, such a strong message," one of the girls said. "I am just, so, moved right now."

Peter grinned.

"My mom used to say that," he said. "She said the seventies was a big time of change for women and society and how people saw the world and music was one of the best ways to reach everybody."

"Your mom could have taught me everything I know," the girl said. "She sounds, like, so amazing."

"She died," Peter said, feeling less sad about saying the words out loud than he had before. "But I remember stuff like that."

"What about your dad?" Tag asked. "Weren't you trying to get a hold of him?"

"Yeah, what does he teach you?" The girl asked. "My dad is tool and dick and he works for NOVA."

Peter fidgeted slightly and mumbled, "We're Ravagers."

The entire group went silent. The girls who had been making out with each other even broke apart to look at him.

The girl who's father worked for NOVA asked, "Your dad is a Ravager?"

Peter opened his mouth, but said nothing. Had he made a mistake? Were they about to become angry and violent? Perhaps they had been wronged by Ravagers.

"My dissertation is on Ravagers," she said, scooting closer. "Did you know that a lot of merchants will actually wait for Ravagers to capture them so they can join them? And NOVA officers will quit NOVA and become Ravagers because Xandar runs a shit-show, unfair economy?"

"No," Peter said in a small voice, shaking his head. He had no clue what she was talking about. He could only be relieved that she didn't sound angry.

"I didn't even know Ravagers had kids on board," she said, frowning thoughtfully. "Most of them aren't really family-oriented."

Tag tapped Peter on the arm and passed him a small clear tube filled with purple powder. Peter looked at him.

"For the Ravager," Tag said, grinning. "I know a kid like you can handle it."

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"Hez," Tag replied. "Ravagers deal in it a lot. It's, like, the best high you'll ever get."

Peter recognized the word. Many of the Ravagers on board talked about it. He looked at the tube, turning it over, and Tag laughed, taking it from him and unscrewing the top to open it.

"You snort it," he explained, imitating shoving something up one nostril and used his pointer finger to close the other. 

Peter hesitated. Sometimes the other Ravagers let him drink, but never a lot and Yondu only let him take sips of his liquor. Drugs were different. On Terra, the older kids in the DARE program always gave speeches at the end of the year assembly talking about how bad they were. Wasn't Peter past that, though? He was Ravager, after all.

"Look, he's gonna do it," one of the girls said, giggling as Peter crammed the small, skinny tube up his nose, using his finger to close his other nostril. He snorted as hard as he could and a sudden burning sensation filled his sinuses.

He could hear the others laughing, but they sounded far away. He suddenly felt as if he was floating and couldn't come back down. In spite of himself, he began making babyish panicked noises.

"Dude, it's alright!" He heard Tag say. "You're just really, really tripping right now."

"I don't think he's okay," he heard one of the females say, sounding less amused. "Can a kid do that and be okay?"

Peter suddenly felt like ants were crawling on him, lines and lines of them going up his arms and his legs and up his back. He slapped at them, suddenly feeling them on his neck. They started to bite him. He cried out.

"He's not okay," he heard one of the girls say. "Tag, he's not okay. He's freaking out."

Peter ran out of the tent and suddenly everything was changing colors, not just the mountains. The ants were gone, but now he was cold, shaking he was so cold. He couldn't walk in a straight line and reached his arms out to grab onto something, anything. He felt like the ground was closer than it really was, like it was more to his side and not below him.

"Peter?"

He stopped stumbling and stood still, shivering as he listened again.

"Peter, honey?"

A few feet away, thick waves of brown hair and big beautiful eyes and healthy and glowing was...

"Mom..." he breathed, so cold he could almost see his breath.

He walked faster, still staggering, arms out to keep his balance though he could not. Twice he fell sideways, hitting the soft ground beneath him. He got back up both times, trying to get to his mother as fast as he could.

It was over. The nightmare was over. His mother was here. She was okay. She was going to take him home. She was going to hold him and he was going to hold her and never ever let her go. He would tell her about his time as a Ravager and as he did so, she would kiss his face and she would smell like her favorite jasmine perfume.

When he got to her, she was gone. He looked around, spinning in a circle, his heart speeding up.

"Mom?" He asked quietly, and then screamed it.

"MOM!!!!!!!"

\---------------

It was dark when Peter awoke. Something wet and cold was on his head. A washcloth maybe? The way his mother used to do when he was sick with a fever, frequently waking him in the night to cool his head and put fizzy drinks to his lips because he needed fluids. Something did come to his lips. Water.

Peter whined slightly, drowsily, disoriented. He could still feel pin pricks all over him and his head hurt. He was on the ground, he realized, his hands practically vibrated against his sides, he was shaking so hard.

"You know where you are?"

It was not the voice of his mother. It was a man's voice.

"Where's my mom?" Peter asked, remembering her call him so clearly. She had been _right there_.

"She's gone, Son," the voice said. "It's okay, though. You're with me. You're with your father."

"Yondu..." Peter whispered in a breathy voice, closing his eyes again. Even if his mother was not there, Yondu was, and that was still a relief.

A hand brushed through his hair and hesitated when it got to the earpiece of the translator, lingering there for a moment. Peter raised one of his hands slightly and it trembled uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry," he slurred. "I took something bad. Hez."

The confession made him burn with shame, even in his current state.

"Hez? The drug?" The voice asked softly. "No wonder you're not lucid."

He felt a large, warm hand take his own, giving it a few gentle squeezes. Not in comfort, he realized, more like it was being tested for something. As it happened, Peter felt the smoothness of the flesh. No rough callouses that matched his own. Ravagers had wonderful callouses and Peter was particularly proud of all of his. He had more than most Ravagers because he did a lot of hanging and climbing.

"Would you like to come home, Son?" The voice asked.

Peter felt strong arms lift him up and he opened his eyes, which hurt to do so. Everything was so bright. Wasn't it night? He saw a bright white light. He was moving towards it.

\-----------

"I'm gonna ask one more time," Yondu said. "And then I'm gon' get mad."

Several young adult hippy spoiled brat aliens stood before him, all of their arms up in defense. The camp reeked of drugs and sex and Yondu doubted even a third of them were sober.

"Where is the kid this cruiser belongs to?" He demanded, arrow at the ready.

"I'm telling you," one of them said, his voice cracking. "He stumbled out of the tent and across that terrain over there. He got all weird, Man. He had lights comin' out of his hands and stuff."

"He's telling the truth!" A girl choked out. "He tripped out really bad on Hez."

"Who gave 'im Hez?" Yondu barked. "Little child! Ain't no bigger than a minute and one of you entitled teet-suckers gave 'im Hez?"

He looked at Kraglin and asked, "What do reckon that does to a kid Quill's size?"

Kraglin shrugged and sighed helplessly.

"It's pretty strong shit," he admitted. "And that's on a grown adult."

Yondu called the arrow back to him. These idiot kids weren't worth wasting. He turned his attention back to the cruiser, which was parked so carelessly. Peter must had landed the second one of the panel lights came on.

"We gotta go look for 'im," he said, sighing deeply.

Kraglin nodded.

 

To Be Continued...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah...no longer particularly canon-compliant. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As you can see, Peter's pushing double digits (a zero-teen as he calls himself) and not only does he have a worried Ravager dad, but Ego too, and he can't keep his nose (literally) out of anything. Thanks again for the wonderful comments and kudos! If you've requested something, be patient because I probably will use it, even if it's not right away. A lot of things that have already happened were inspired by ideas YOU gave me, so anymore, feel free to throw my way.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the hiatus! Stuff came up. New job, new group of kids (I teach), new schedule. It's been crazy, but I'm back on track. Yes, this is straying away from canon (slightly) but I hope you enjoy it. I still have comments from the last chapter to respond to which I should be able to do tomorrow, but as always, I will get back to your comment. Just be patient with me. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Peter awoke to a hand on his forehead. He didn't necessarily feel _better_ , but a heavy, calming feeling slowly funneled through him. He opened his eyes to see a strange looking girl with two flesh colored antennae sticking out of her forehead. Her black eyes were big and dark, mild and sharp looking at the same time. She smiled at him, and as Peter raised himself into a sitting position, he could see that she was not much older than he was, maybe thirteen or fourteen at the oldest. 

"Hello," she told him, still smiling. "You are finally awake."

Peter blinked, looking around. The walls and floor were bright, almost blindingly bright. He was on some sort of plush structure, like a sofa without a back or arms. The girl leaned in real close, seemingly unaware of personal space, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Peter said, feeling the deep, content calm leave him. A rapid nervousness filled its place. 

"Where am I?" He asked. 

"Mantis?" A deep voice called in a pleasant fashion. "Is he awake?"

The girl gave Peter an equally nervous look and stood up straight.

"Yes, Master!" She called back, placing her hands stiffly at her side. 

Peter's eyes followed a man that walked into the bright room, dressed in loose fitting clothes and boots. He had thick, dark curly hair and a beard, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Peter stared at him helplessly from the sofa.

"There he is!" The man laughed in a cheerful way, throwing his hands up. 

He moved to sit beside Peter and the bug girl obediently scooted away, watching from a corner, wringing her hands as if she weren't sure what to do or where to go. The man reached over to cup Peter's face in his large, smooth hands. His hands were soft and warm, and felt as smooth as the skin of little Joey Whitman, the neighbor's baby Peter's mother babysat sometimes when Mr. and Mrs. Whitman wanted to go on a date. 

"Look at you," the man breathed, feeling some of Peter's hair. "You're a handsome little guy, aren't you?"

"Where am I?" Peter asked again.

The man turned around and said, "Mantis, leave us please."

The bug girl bobbed her head up and down and skittered out of the room. Peter watched her go, suddenly feeling scared and uncomfortable with this stranger. At least the other one was a child like him.

"I'm your father, Peter," the man said. "And I've been looking for you for a long time."

Peter felt like he forgot how to breathe for a minute. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he silently gasped, and then he didn't do anything. Didn't inhale. Didn't exhale. He finally let out a deep breath when the man took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Kind of cool, right?" He said with a chuckle. "Together at last?"

"How did you find me?" Peter asked in a small voice. 

It was strange, he thought. He'd fantasized about this very moment from the time he'd entered preschool and had really grasped the concept of a father. He'd written stories about it in secret notebooks he kept under his mattress. He'd walked around outside along the creek behind the house collecting sticks and pebbles, having imaginary conversations with his father who'd also been looking for him in his daydreams. 

Now it was happening, and Peter was truly afraid. He was not ready to leap into this man's arms and hug him as tight as he could. He might as well go up to any guy in the galaxy and do the same. 

"I was tracking you," the man said. "I had someone named Yondu pick you up from Earth, but he took you and kept you."

Yondu. 

Peter's heart suddenly hurt and he swallowed hard. 

"He told me he had reasons," he said. 

He was good for thieving, he thought. That was Yondu's reason. Up until Peter, they had never been able to shimmy through air shafts or crawl low enough to avoid being seen by security cameras. Yondu had probably decided it wasn't even worth it to turn Peter over to this man after he got a little extra out of every mission. 

"When I heard about what happened to your mother," the man said, shaking his head. "I knew I had to take you away. You needed me. You needed a father."

"Why didn't you come before that?" Peter asked. 

Why wasn't he there when Peter had to go to the emergency room when he was three because he'd found the ladder and climbed onto the roof and fell off  because he tried to jump to the tree that stood out front? Why wasn't he there when there had been miscommunication between Grandpa Quill and Meredith about who was taking care of Peter after school one winter day and Peter was left to sit on the front steps shivering until his mother rushed home early from work because nobody had answered the phone? Peter had sat on those steps, hugging his knees, playing with his oversized kindergarten name tag, thinking of wolves and ghosts and monsters. All of the things a father could protect him from. Why wasn't he there when Peter's mother's brain disease had gotten so bad that Peter had walked into the hospital room with flowers only to have her ask what his name was? Of course, she had remembered moments later, but it had hurt so bad at the time and a father gently explaining things to him would have made a world of difference.  

"I couldn't, Son," the man said in a grim way, pulling Peter against his side. "I wanted to, but I'm not a human. I can't stay on Earth for long periods of time."

"Why didn't you come get me and Mom a long time ago?" Peter asked, allowing the man to rub his big hand up and down his arm. 

"I loved your mother," the man said. "My river lily."

\---------

The man was called Ego, Peter learned after sharing a meal and stories and his father's history. Ego laughed when Peter told him about the time the school had been closed due to snow and he and his mother had stayed in their pajamas all day and danced to music and ate homemade beer and cheese soup.

"I always loved Meredith's beer and cheese soup," Ego said with a sigh as he watched Peter across the table scarfing down a dish of vanilla ice cream. "She got it from her grandmother, you know."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, nodding. "And her chocolate-chocolate cake."

"She was terrific," Ego said, staring off into space. "And when you were born...I saw so much of her in you."

"You were there when I was born?" Peter asked, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Of course I was!" Ego seemed almost hurt that Peter would think otherwise. "I held your mother's hand while it happened. I named you."

Mantis stood nearby, as she always seemed to be doing, smiling and chuckling at funny stories exchanged, but never actually joining in. She quietly collected their dishes after they were done and Ego stood up, holding out his hand.

"Let's take a walk," he told Peter. 

\----

Ego's planet was beautiful. It wasn't hot or cold, but just right. The air smelled fresh and had a lingering sweet scent. The plants were brightly colored and the babbling brooks and nearby streams had an almost rainbow effect. In the distance were mountains and the stars above glittered in the pink and orange evening sky brighter than Peter had ever seen them anywhere else. 

"You're home, Peter," Ego said as they walked. "You know that, right?"

Peter said nothing. This planet was beautiful, he couldn't argue with that, but home? _His_ home?

"You can't go back to Earth," Ego continued. "Not after being away from it. It's too small."

Peter silently agreed with him. He could never begin to explain to other terrans what space was like, and all of the different species and places and terrain...even if he did tell someone, who would believe him? Peter had watched enough news stories of people claiming to have been abducted by aliens, and nobody ever believed them. They were always deemed hopeless nutcases. 

"Mom said you would come get me," Peter said, stepping over a brightly colored flower, as big as a small dog. "Yondu got me."

He looked at Ego. 

"Why didn't you come for me?" He wanted to know.

"I was weak," Ego said. "And stupid. I was so torn up over your mother's passing...I should have come. It should have been me."

He gave Peter a half smile, his eyes suddenly old and tired and sad. 

"I'm sorry for that," he said. 

\--------

Peter stayed with Ego for the next three weeks. The first week was nothing but fun. Peter had anything he wanted to eat, and could run and climb and swim and bask in the sunshine and talk nonstop about his mother to someone else who could appreciate the memories of her. 

The second week, Ego told him that he wasn't just a non-human being, he was a celestial. He showed Peter how the light worked and even played ball with him, something Peter had always wanted to do-not the magic part, just the spending time with a father, playing a lazy, mindless game of catch. Ego told him that they were connected by blood, and that Peter could use the light too, it was in him. Peter could not, no matter how much he tried or how hard he concentrated. 

The third week, after endless hours of practice, Peter could still not bring forth and contain the light the way Ego could. Mantis always stood nearby somewhere, biting her thumbnail or chewing on a strand of hair uneasily. Ego became less patient with Peter, and snapped at him a few times, often apologizing quickly. He started to grill Peter on all kinds of strange history like how fast his wounds healed and if he'd ever created even the slightest flicker from his body. After that, he seemed to lose interest in teaching Peter, but also began losing interest in him all together. 

"He doesn't like me," Peter said when Mantis entered his room with a tray of food. Ego no longer shared meals with him, but ate alone in his own chambers.

"He is just frustrated," Mantis said, pouring some tea for Peter. "He wanted you to be like him."

Peter nodded and thanked her for the food. 

"You can stay and eat with me," he offered. "Are you hungry?"

He was so lonely now, desperate for any kind of company. 

"I'd better not," she said, biting her lip. "Have a good night, Peter."

\------

Ego shook him. After several days, they'd attempted one more time to try and help Peter bring forth his 'potential' as Ego called it, and when he couldn't, Ego had grabbed him roughly by the arm and shook him, screaming, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? WITH ALL OF YOU?"

Peter didn't know who 'all of you' referred to, but he guessed humans.

"I'm sorry," he said, his cheeks heating with shame. "I really am trying."

"It's not in you," Ego said, letting him go. "Big surprise."

Peter wanted him to add, 'but you're still my son and I want you around anyway' but he said nothing of the sort. He was left to wander around alone once more, fingering the bruises on his upper arm from where Ego had grabbed him. 

He missed the Ravagers. They yelled at him too, but they yelled at everyone. They were a bunch of yellers. Yonder, who yelled the most, Peter had once called 'Old Yeller' and the joke was lost on the captain, but when Peter had explained about the movie and why the joke was funny, Yondu had laughed.  

He missed the loud noises of work and game watching and drinking. He missed the quiet noises of Yondu and Kraglin speaking alone in hushed voices in the hallway. He missed his Walkman. He missed the elector. 

His mother had once told him that home was where the heart is, and as Peter stared at the eerily beautiful pond with no fish, he realized that the Ravager ship was home. 

\------

"I want to apologize," Ego said later after the moons had all risen and several stars were out. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."

"It's okay," Peter said, even though he wasn't sure. Fathers weren't supposed to yell and grab their children because they couldn't do something beyond their normal abilities. Were they? 

Peter was sitting in bed when Ego had come in, knocking on the door softly, to tell him he was sorry. He sat on Peter's plush bed and stroked some of his hair. 

"Get some rest," he said. "I'm going to have Mantis help you to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't really need Mantis to put him to sleep, but he was also slightly afraid to argue with Ego, so he simply nodded. Ego rubbed his hair affectionately one last time and nodded at Mantis, who stood in the doorway. 

"Lie back," Ego told him. "Good boy."

Peter was nervous about Mantis making him fall asleep. He'd seen her do it to Ego and he didn't really like the idea of just being knocked out. He enjoyed drifting to sleep, alone with his thoughts and memories, blurring together with music to make his dreams mostly good ones.

He looked at Mantis, who looked back at him with a pained expression on her face. She looked at Ego, almost pleadingly, and he gave a stern look. 

"You look just like your mother, you know that?" Ego said, patting him through the covers. "Close your eyes, Son."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and felt Mantis lay her hand on his forehead. In a matter of moments, he was in haze between being awake and asleep, hearing Mantis and Ego speak, though they sounded far away, their words echoing around in Peter's mind dramatically.

"Master, please don't," he heard Mantis say, like he was underwater and she was not. "Not this one please."

"You do not question me," He heard Ego say, the way a teacher might say to a disobedient student. "You do not beg, you do not whine. Are we clear, Mantis?"

He felt Ego's hand on him this time, and he heard Mantis shriek and start to cry.

"No!" She wailed. "Please don't do it!"

"BE SILENT! He heard Ego bellow angrily. 

"Maybe he cannot use it because he is a child!" Mantis wailed. "Maybe because they are all children! He can use it! I felt it in him! Please don't do this!"

Peter felt himself growing more relaxed, his breathing becoming slower. The voices were so far away, he could barely hear them. 

"Put him back on Earth..."

"...can't find him there..."

"...like a pretty little cage where only I can find him..."

"....when I need him..."

"...Earth..."

"Peter..."

"Earth..."

 

\------------------

The last thing Peter remembered was his scary experience with Hex, stumbling around feeling ants and pinpricks and cold. He woke up to voices, several voices, and loud radio static. It sounded like part of a TV show where the police had just arrived on the scene. 

"Breathe," he heard someone say as he took a deep, gasping breath. "He's breathing now. He's breathing."

"Load him up into the ambulance."

This was wrong. Everything was wrong. Peter was flat on his back, staring at the inside of what he guessed was an ambulance. There was a mask over his nose and mouth and a woman in navy blue, a human woman, was giving him some kind of shot in his arm. 

Brief images of a man with a beard and a scared looking girl with big black eyes flashed in his mind, but with every flash, like a strobe light, the images became dimmer and dimmer and no matter how hard he tried, he could not grasp them back. 

He was in a hospital now, surrounded by people in scrubs that looked like him. A doctor barked orders to several nurses standing nearby and another turned Peter's head to the side gently, and he could feel them touching the receptor plate of his translator implant. 

"His vitals look stable now," someone said. "Heart rate, breathing..."

"What's this on the side of his head?"

"It's on there good, we'll need to get it off."

Peter only remembered fighting a sweet smell as another mask came over him and a doctor told him to relax, counting slowly. Peter was drifting to a scary unconscious place again, and he thrashed weakly. 

"It's okay," someone told him. "We're going to fix you up. Eight...nine...ten..."

"Yondu!" Peter cried weakly in a raspy voice, fighting the mask off his face. "Yondu!"

"Eleven...twelve..."

\------

Peter woke up in a hospital bed. The side of his head throbbed painfully. A nice looking lady in a pantsuit sat in a chair beside the bed. Peter didn't even bother raising his head. He was so tired from everything. His body felt weak.

"Hello," the lady said. "I'm glad to see you awake. My name is Ms. Gold. Can you tell me yours?"

Peter said nothing.

"Do you remember what happened?" She asked. "You went through quite a scary ordeal."

Peter still said nothing. The lady offered him something that made Peter's brows furrow and he weakly moved into a sitting position. It was a bottle of Coca Cola. She held it out to him and he took it, turning the glass bottle around and around in his hand. This was a terran beverage. It was only on Terra. 

"Some joggers found you in the park," the lady said. "You couldn't breathe. You couldn't walk. Something was stapled to your head. The doctors had to perform a small surgery to remove it."

Peter opened the Coke bottle and his eyes widened when it began to spew everywhere. He'd forgot about that part. 

The lady got up and quickly moved across the room to a small wash basin and paper towel dispenser. She gathered several napkins and brought them back, trying to clean up the mess. 

"I'm from Social Services, " Ms. Gold said. "I help boys and girls like you everyday. The ones that run away, their parents aren't always nice people, something happened..."

She patted his knee through the hospital sheet and asked, "I would say a lot has happened to you, and I'd like to help you figure it out, okay?"

Peter looked at her. 

"My name is Peter," he said. 

\---------

He was back on Terra. It had been two days now, and Peter was truly frightened. Ms. Gold came in and out of of his room, but got little information out of Peter. He was not going to wind up like one of those nutjobs talking about crop circles and probing. He learned that he was back in his hometown, and apparently his return had made big news. He'd never thought about his absence turning him into a missing child, but then again, Terra was a long, long ago concept now. 

"Your grandfather isn't well," Ms. Gold told him when he'd asked about him, handing him a brown McDonald's bag. "He's in care now. He has Dementia."

"What's that?" Peter asked, frowning as he bit into his cheeseburger. For the past two days, he'd been unhappy with terran food. Had it always been this bland and tasteless? 

"His mind doesn't work very well anymore," Ms. Gold said. "He can't do simple things anymore like drive a car or pay bills. He needs assistance doing small tasks. He doesn't remember names or faces."

She tucked some blonde hair behind her ear and asked, "Peter, what happened that night? It's alright to tell me. It's just me and you, okay?"

"A man took me," Peter said. "He was supposed to take me to my dad, but he didn't. He kept me."

"He told you that?" Ms. Gold asked. "That he was taking you to your dad?"

Peter nodded.

"Where did he keep you?" She asked.

"With him," Peter said, careful not to say anything about space or the Elector. "And his crew. They were thieves."

Ms. Gold squinted slightly, but nodded and said, "Go on, Sweetheart."

"I was good for fitting into small places," he said. "They wanted me to steal for them."

"Peter..." Ms. Gold, moved to sit on the bed beside him, perching as there was not a lot of room. "Sometimes when something really bad happens to us. Traumatic things-we tend to add a lot of make believe to that story because we're embarrassed or scared to talk about it."

Peter frowned. 

"Did this man hurt you?" She asked.

"No," Peter said. 

"They had to pull something off of your head," she told him. "And then surgically remove something out of your head. There was something wrong with your body. You couldn't breathe when you were found, and you were very sick."

Peter stared at her, and then it dawned on him. He gingerly felt behind his ear and did not feel the familiar plate, but bandages. His heart stopped. His translator implant was gone. 

"No!" He said, close to tears. 

"It's alright," Ms. Gold said, wrapping an arm around him. "Peter, it's okay."

How would Yondu ever find him? Peter began to cry, burying his face into his knees as he drew them up. He was back here on Earth, and he felt so scared in this unfamiliar place. Ms. Gold rubbed his back and told him things were going to be alright, but they would never be alright. Not now. 

\------

"He might not be alive," Kraglin said as Yondu rubbed his eyes in a tired fashion. 

For weeks they'd searched for Peter, and it was as if he'd disappeared into thin air. Not a single person could tell them they'd spotted a terran child. It was hard enough that he was missing, but even harder because Yondu had to keep a nonchalant attitude about it when it came to the crew. On the inside, he was dying. Where had Peter gone?

Now he was alone with Kraglin, getting off of the transmission com with a crazy drifter who'd claimed to see Peter on a nearby world. It was a false alarm. The drifter hadn't seen a child, but a grown man. 

"After everything we done gone through with that boy," Yondu muttered with a tired, flat chuckle. "He's alive. I know he is."

He sighed deeply and said, "I just don't know where."

It was like finding a needle in a haystack, one child in the entire galaxy, and even worse since the trail had gone cold. Peter couldn't have just left the planet without his cruiser. Not on his own. That made Yondu's stomach do flips. Someone had to have taken him from there. 

\-----------

Peter was placed into foster care, a house with a husband, wife, and six other rowdy boys. Peter, who had always been a sociable child, could not relate with these children. He'd seen too much, done too much. One of the boys, a twelve year old, had tried to intimidate Peter on his first day there, and Peter had put a stop to it instantly with one of the fighting moves he'd learned. The boys talked about stealing candy and cigarettes from the nearby shopping center. Peter wished he could tell them about the things he'd stolen, and his stories involved bombs and open firing and guards. One of them involved a fire. 

The husband and wife, Maureen and Joseph Righter, were nice enough people, and left Peter to hole up in the room he shared with two other boys his age. Ms. Gold frequently came by to ask questions and Peter had to go to many doctor visits where they made him strip to his underwear and counted his nicks and bruises. The doctors were particularly interested in the scars left behind from his encounter with Rox in the showers. 

One day, as Peter was sitting in the window seat of the bedroom, watching the rain slide down against the glass, a detective came to speak with Peter, along with Ms. Gold. 

"Hello, Peter," he said as Mrs. Righter put out doughnuts and coffee. "My name is Detective Whitt. I've been assigned to your case."

"My case?" Peter asked, frowning. He picked a doughnut with chocolate glaze. 

"Peter," Ms. Gold told him. "You were abducted and whoever took you did very bad things to you. We want them to be found and brought to justice."

"They weren't bad," Peter said, biting into the doughnut. "I mean, they were thieves, but they didn't hurt me."

"He's delusional," Ms. Gold told Detective Whitt quietly. "He's stuck to this story of 'ravagers' and becoming part of their 'crew'."

"I'm not lying," Peter said, putting his doughnut down. "And they didn't hurt me. And you'll never find them."

"What was the captain's name?" Detective Whitt asked. "Ms. Gold tells me he's the one you spent the most time with."

"Yondu," Peter said. 

"Yondu?" Ms. Gold frowned. "What did he look like?"

"The scratches on me," Peter said instead of answering her question. "They're from missions. The ones on my back. One of them did hurt me. In the shower, but he's gone now. Yondu got rid of him. That's what Kraglin told me."

"He hurt you in the shower?" Detective Whitt asked. 

Peter nodded. "When I was eight."

Detective Whitt wrote something down. 

"What did he do to you in the shower?" He asked.

"He scratched me," Peter said. 

"With what?"

"His nails."

"Peter," Ms. Gold said carefully. "Those scars on your back. Nobody's fingernails could have done that, Honey. It's okay. You can tell us the truth."

Detective Whitt simply continued.

"Why did he scratch you?"

Peter felt his face heat up. Even back then, he knew what Rox had been trying to do. He shifted in his seat and shrugged, scratching the back of his head. 

"Did Yondu ever hurt you like that?" Detective Whitt asked.

"NO!" Peter snapped and forced himself to speak in a normal voice. "Yondu took care of me, he protected me."

He longed for Yondu more than anything in the galaxy. But how would Yondu ever know to look for him on Earth?

\-------------

"Cap'n?" 

Torra timidly approached Yondu and Kraglin as they counted mission loot. 

"What?" Yondu asked.

"I um...I heard you might be lookin' for Quill," Torra said awkwardly. " I didn't know until just recently that he was missin'."

"Little shit prolly ran off," Yondu said, trying to sound like he didn't care, but he did care. He cared so much it hurt. 

Torra nodded, unconvinced by the captain's answer and said, "The translators. They have trackers on 'em, you know."

Yondu paused in his counting. He and Kraglin exchanged looks, trying to look casual about it. 

"You track it?" Kraglin asked him. He was done with this facade. They knew that Torra knew what Peter meant to Yondu.

"Terra," Torra said. "I can give you the coordinates." 

\--------------

Mr. and Mrs. Righter were a very religious pair and made the boys pray every night before going to sleep. They were allowed to pray silently, and at first, Peter hadn't. He'd just bowed his head and closed his eyes and thought about how sad and lonely and miserable and scared he was. Tonight, he decided to give it a chance. A real chance.

"God," he whispered, after his roommates were asleep and snoring. He turned to talk into his pillow. "If you're real, please give me back to Yondu."

He let out a long, shuddering sigh as he willed himself to go to sleep. 

 

 

To Be Continued...

 


	12. Chapter 12

It had been August when Peter was placed into foster care, and now it was October. After several visits with Ms. Gold and Detective Whitt and even trips to court-appointed psychiatrists, Peter was beginning to wonder if he had never actually gone to space. Yondu still had not come for him and if it had all been real, wouldn't he have been here by now?

Peter was behind in school, but Ms. Gold arranged for private tutors and he was placed in a regular fifth grade class in the elementary school he'd attended while his mother was still alive. Most of the kids remembered him, but Peter couldn't do the same. Of course he knew their names and faces, but his life on Earth seemed so far back, a lifetime back even. Mr. and Mrs. Righter had sat Peter down one evening and told him there was a couple interested in adopting him. They were foster parents, they explained, and he was lucky to have been in their care as long as he had. Had Yondu been a foster parent too? Just a temporary adult until the real thing came along?

The couple turned out to be a husband and wife with no children in the house. Mr. and Mrs. Kane were their names, and they seemed delighted to have Peter. As soon as he'd arrived with only a backpack, they were waiting outside with big smiles and open arms.

"I knew your mama from church," Mrs. Kane said, kissing his cheek as she gave him a big hug. "We're all glad you're safe."

\-----

By the time Halloween rolled around, Peter had caught up in school and fallen into somewhat of a routine. Mr. and Mrs. Kane, who had instructed him to call them Jan and Tyler, were very kind. Tyler coached little league football and signed Peter up. Jan was part of the PTA and baked all kinds of treats for Peter's school Halloween carnival. Peter was happy to be with people who cared about him, but every night, after he'd settled in bed, he cried. He cried quietly, of course, because there was no point in crying. He was home on Earth. He was in the home of two people who genuinely enjoyed him being there and were pushing to adopt him (as for now, Peter was something called 'a ward of the state'). What was there to cry about, he asked himself, hoping the conflicting voice in his head would not answer, but it did.

Yondu.

He missed Yondu, and it scared him to know that the Ravager captain might be looking for him and never find him. It scared him even more to think that Yondu had given up, or had maybe never even cared enough to look in the first place.

"I'm here," he whispered in a shuddering breath as he furiously wiped at his eyes. "Yondu, I'm here. Come get me."

\------

"Go long, Pete! Go long! Go long!" Tyler cried, throwing the football across the large backyard.

Peter easily caught it. His time with the Ravagers, jumping and climbing and crawling and running, had given him quite the edge in sports. He was one of the fastest on the football field, and in gym class he could climb the rope the fastest and play crab soccer the best.

"Wow!" Tyler said, clapping his hands and laughing a little as Peter fell sideways into the grass after diving for the ball.

Peter sat up, shaking leaves out of his hair, and smiled. Tyler came over to help him up.

The two of them went into the house where Jan was busy at the stove cooking fried chicken and mashed potatoes and green beans. It was another thing Peter had to adjust to again, terran food. She smiled at her husband and Peter and said, "I heard you two hollering out there like it was a real NFL game."

She playfully patted Peter on the seat of his pants and said, "Go and wash up before supper."

\------

After dinner, Jan and Tyler sat Peter down in the living room. They wanted to have a 'serious' talk, they told him.

"We know this has all been a big adjustment," Jan said. "And we know that it must be so strange coming back like this."

Peter wanted to say, 'you have no idea' but he said nothing.

"Peter, Ms. Gold and Detective Whitt have both talked to us about the psychiatry visits and police reports from your disappearance," Jan continued, and her husband reached over to squeeze her hand. 

Peter waited.

"They think they may have found the man that took you," Tyler said.

Peter frowned.

"They didn't," he said simply.

"He confessed to it," Tyler told him. "He's actually been in trouble with the law before, involving kids like you."

"It's not him," Peter said again.

\---------

Detective Whitt showed Peter pictures of a man that Peter had never seen before. He was surly with tattoos and beady eyes. He looked like someone that might ride around on a motorcycle or drive a semi-truck.

"That's not him," Peter said.

"Are you sure?" Detective Whitt asked. "We need to be sure, Peter. I don't want you to be scared. Sometimes criminals will confess to a crime they didn't commit because it will stall time or help them avoid punishment for a bigger crime they committed. This man confessed to taking you."

Peter leaned back into the plush sofa. The cuckoo clock on the wall ticked loudly. Jan and Tyler toyed with the cups of coffee and boxes of doughnuts set out. 

"Peter," Jan said in a soft, reassuring voice. "It's alright for you to tell Detective Whitt. This man can never hurt you again-"

"He didn't hurt me!" Peter himself was surprised by his sudden outburst as he stood up.

"He took care of me! He protected me! He taught me how to fight! How to take care of myself!" He said, feeling all kinds of emotions churning within him.

He imagined, suddenly, if Yondu were there, he would slap Peter on the back of his head and tell him to get a grip. He would tell Peter they were leaving and they would be on their way back to space. Peter felt terribly ashamed for feeling the way he did, but being here on Earth, it was like being stuck in a birdcage, like he was just waiting for someone to open the door so he could fly away. He was ashamed because the Kanes were such kind people who didn't owe Peter anything, and he wanted nothing to do with him.

Detective Whitt hardly seemed surprised by Peter's yelling. He leaned forward and folded his hands, resting his chin on them.

"Did he tell you that he loved you?" He asked.

Peter froze.

"It's okay," Detective Whitt continued. "It's just a question."

Peter felt his clenched fists loosen. Yondu had never said the words, but Peter was certain there was something more to their relationship than just captain and Ravager, not unlike Kraglin and Yondu. Peter knew what the nature of their relationship was, even if they never said it, but he didn't call attention to it. He liked Kraglin being part of their posse. Peter felt as if Yondu cared about Kraglin like a companion, and Peter like, well...

His cheeks burned. Detective Whitt seemed to take note.

A son, Peter thought.

"That's not the guy," he said finally. "I'm sure."

\------------

Peter sneaked away at the Halloween carnival. He had to be by himself. He was going crazy. He found himself walking around the town, hands jammed into his jacket pockets for warmth. The dry leaves crunched under his feet and he enjoyed the sound they made. He could smell fires from the houses that already had chimneys lit. He found himself standing in front of the house he'd shared with his mother and grandfather. There was a tricycle in the yard along with a few other babyish toys. It was no longer his house. This was no longer his world.

Peter continued to walk, feeling a painful sensation in his throat, but he was not going to cry. He walked to the creek on the other side of the row of houses, where it was darker because no street lights shined there. He used to love playing by the creek, sometimes until it became so dark that he and his friends would scare themselves walking back, talking of ghosts and werewolves and big wild cats that might get them.

Peter went deeper into the thicket, remembering being young enough to be scared of such things, but old enough to remember his way back. It was dark, and there was hardly a moon at all. He stepped carefully over stones that stood above the water, grabbing low branches above on one of the trees. Some of tree branches were so low that they just begged to be climbed. As he continued on, he heard a noise. Not a frog or a rabbit, but a strange almost low whirring noise.

He looked around, and moved to step on a stone, but missed it and fell into the creek, the water cold and unpleasant. He scrambled to his feet, the water up past his knees. He heard the same noise again, this time louder and closer. Peter froze, shivering, unsure of what to do.

Someone grabbed him suddenly, taking him into big strong arms and Peter was suddenly reminded of Rox, who had done the same. They covered his mouth and he panicked and thrashed. Whoever it was, they were speaking in a strange sound, like a monster. A series of rolling noises and clicks. They carried him kicking and screaming behind their hand out of the thicket and dropped him on the grass. Peter scooted away from them, similar to how he moved in crab soccer in gym class. He looked up to see a strange man with black skin, actually black like the color of Santa Clause's boots, and bright red eyes. It really was some kind of monster. It made noises at him again and Peter stood up to run.

A whistle. An arrow. Stopping right between his eyes.

\---------

"Damn, Tugg," Yondu told the newest Ravager. "You didn't have to go and scare the piss outta him."

"I was asking if he was Peter Quill," Tugg said. "He struggled and refused to answer me."

Yondu looked at Peter, who was almost cross-eyed, staring at the arrow. Yondu called it back to him, tucking it away under his coat, and grinned at the boy. _His_ boy.

"So," he said. "This is where you ran off to."

Peter, to his surprise, took a few steps back, away from him. He looked between Yondu and Tugg and Yondu frowned. Was Peter actually afraid of him?

"How'd you get back here?" Yondu asked. "We been combin' through the whole damn Galaxy lookin' for you."

Peter still continued to stare at him, his eyes big and intense with a certain wariness to them. Yondu marched up to him and tapped the boy's chin, forcing them to make eye contact.

"Quill," he said. "Hey."

Peter opened his mouth then, but said nothing and closed it. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and when he blinked, a few tears sliding down his cheeks, Yondu realized it was because they had been watering. Peter had been trying not to cry.

"Wass wrong?" Yondu asked gently, kneeling down. "Peter."

He pushed some of Peter's hair back and then frowned. He did it again, and deliberately pushed the hair away from his ears. The plate he'd put there was gone.  A noise made them all turn to see Kraglin, holding some kind of space-age flashlight which shined all over the place. Yondu waved furiously at him to shut it off.

"Pete!" Kraglin breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "He was here."

Yondu's heart broke for Peter, knowing he could not understand a single thing any of them were saying. Yondu could not explain how he'd been looking for him for months, nor could he ask Peter what happened and get an answer. Peter broke down then, his shoulders going up and down and little whimpering noises coming out of him that he probably couldn't help as the floodgates opened and he started to cry. Yondu didn't stop him when he wrapped his arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He simply rubbed the boy's back and hair, wishing Tugg weren't here to witness it.

"You wanna go home?" Yondu asked, even though he knew Peter couldn't understand him. "Huh?"

\--------

Peter wordlessly followed the three Ravagers back through the wooded area that separated one side of town from the other. He felt guilty, thinking of Jan and Tyler back at the school, who were probably looking for him by now, but he wasn't about to leave Yondu's sight and miss his chance to return to space with him.

His heart soared when he saw one of the Elector cruisers appear, reflective panels disengaging, and they all climbed inside. He listened to Kraglin and Yondu and the Ravager he didn't know talk to each other in strange sounds, absent-mindedly rubbing the spot where his translator implant had been.

It took no time to return to the Elector, and though some of the Ravagers glanced his way, none of them said anything to him. Yondu took Peter straight to his cabin, Kraglin with them, and motioned for him to sit down in the chair. The chair that practically belonged to Peter. Peter sat and watched as Yondu went to a drawer and dug around. Kraglin gave Peter a half smile and rubbed his hair affectionately. Peter smiled back, a little shyly.

He watched as Yondu returned with the implant gun. He held it up to show Peter and then moved in close to lift up some of the boy's hair with his thumb, holding it in place so he could see where to aim the trigger. Peter tensed, and Kraglin silently offered him a piece of chewing gum. Peter took it and relaxed a little, focusing on chewing. He winced slightly as the gun clicked loudly, sending a wave of pain into his head.  Yondu then held the receiving plate in place, and made one piercing on top, and one on the bottom.

"That better?" He asked Peter, and though his voice sounded far away, Peter couldn't help but silently feel relieved.

Kraglin used his bare hand to wipe at some of the blood appearing in Peter's hair and then went to the bathroom to fetch a rag.

"So how was your little vacation?" Yondu asked.

Peter looked at him and didn't know what to say. He had no idea how he'd gotten back to Earth or what had happened between his arrival on his home planet and taking a strange drug. Yondu roughly patted his head and said, "Guess it don't matter. Yer back now. Put your lil' butt to work. I need someone small for thievin'. Someone to get mah coffee in the mornin'."

"How did you find me?" Peter asked, starting to stand up, but Kraglin had returned and placed a hand on his shoulder to coax him back down. He began to clean up the blood.

"With my magic powers," Yondu said with a straight face, and Kraglin silently chuckled.

He returned to the bathroom to wring out the rag in the sink.

"Really," Peter said. "How did you find me?"

Yondu knelt down and said, "I figgered if I didn't find you anywhere else, you might just be where I got you in the first place."

Peter smiled and it was contagious because Yondu smiled back.

\-------

Peter was heading to his old room, a bounce in his step, when he heard Yondu whistle loudly at him. He stopped and turned.

"You don't sleep there no more," he informed him.

Peter frowned.

"I don't have a room?" He asked sadly.

Yondu nodded at him to follow and Peter did so. It was in the same hallway as Yondu's cabin and Kraglin's cabin. His own room. On a small cot bed like all of the Ravagers had except for Yondu, the headphones carefully wrapped around it, was his Walkman.

"Welcome home," Yondu told him.

\---------

 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! A short chapter! Forgive me! But I hope you enjoyed it. I'm also a terrible writer, so yeah, it's obvious to us adults that Detective Whitt and Ms. Gold thought whoever had Peter had him for sexual purposes and that's what Detective Whitt was getting at when he talked about love and Peter hesitated. Peter was thinking about love in general, parental, fatherly love. I feel like I didn't do that very well at all so I apologize if it didn't come across as Peter thinking of a different, non pedo kind of love.  
> As usual, I answer all comments ASAP and I have big news. There's about to be a bit of an age gap so Peter will soon be teen Peter. And noticing girls and becoming rebellious. Uh oh.


End file.
